


Finding Joy

by NicePumpkinSpice



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-03-24 18:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 156
Words: 294,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3780715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicePumpkinSpice/pseuds/NicePumpkinSpice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nehn Lavellan believes she has already had her life's great love.  Could anyone in the Inquisition help her find similar joy again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nehn perched herself on a rock outcropping near the frozen lake outside the village of Haven. If there wasn’t a swirling green hole in the sky, she might have considered trying to enjoy the sunset. Instead she looked out over the lake, imagining that she was home in the Free Marches watching the clan’s children play in a creek. Allowing her mind to wander to thoughts of her family and friends had helped her stay sane through the last two days. She had awakened two days ago chained and falsely accused of causing an explosion that had killed hundreds along with the leader of the Chantry, the human’s primary religious organization. Not only that but her left hand had been marked with some foreign magic that caused excruciating pain each time the breach in the sky expanded.

Now she was being lauded as a hero and asked by the humans to help with an investigation into the causes of the explosion. The strange mark on her hand still hurt, but it was tolerable. It had proven useful as well. The large hole in the sky, called the Breach, was accompanied by smaller tears, called rifts, throughout the area that spewed demons. The odd magic in Nehn’s hand allowed her to seal those rifts between the real world and the Fade, a place of spirits, demons, and imagination. After closing the first rift that had formed at the site of the explosion, the large Breach had stopped growing and stabilized. The humans were going so far as to call her “The Herald of Andraste” which was ludicrous because she was a Dalish elf that neither believed in their god the Maker or Andraste his prophet and bride.

Nehn tensed when she heard footsteps behind her. Perhaps the capricious humans had already changed their minds about her and would put her back in irons. The stern faced woman named Cassandra seemed like a particularly dangerous zealot. She had menacingly interrogated Nehn and then dragged the elf to rifts to see if Nehn could close them. An elven mage named Solas had theorized that Nehn’s mark might be able to repair the rifts. Upon encountering him the first time, he had grabbed Nehn’s left hand and shoved it toward a rift willing his magic and her own to close the tear. His touch had not been gentle, and her wrist bore bruises from it. Still he had shown her how to fix things, so she tried to reserve judgment.

Instead of the thickly accented voice of the Seeker Cassandra, Nehn heard a gravely voice belonging to the dwarf, Varric Tethras. Of the people Nehn had encountered in the past days, Varric seemed the most affable. He, too, had been a prisoner of Cassandra and like Nehn was very resentful of the treatment he had received. “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

Nehn motioned for him to sit down. He instead squatted next to her and asked how she was coping with going from being seen as a mass murderer to a messianic figure within a day’s time. Nehn snorted and said, “It’s all bullshit,” which seemed to garner the dwarf’s approval as he sat down beside Nehn and offered her a drink from his flask. Nehn took a sip expecting the earthy ale most dwarves preferred and instead tasted a fine liquor which burned her throat. Coughing in surprise at the strong drink, Nehn smiled and passed the flask back to the dwarf.

“Thinking about running?” he asked after taking a drink of his own. “You might want to consider it. I’ve written plenty of stories about heroes, and in this kind it never ends well.”

Nehn held her hand out for the flask and gratefully took a long drink from it. “It’s crossed my mind, but that bitch Cassandra would just track me down.”

Varric chuckled. “She’s not as good at finding people as her ‘Seeker’ title would imply. You might have a chance.”

Nehn’s gaze returned to the frozen lake and then down to her glowing left hand. Holding her glowing hand palm up, she said, “This doesn’t leave me much choice. If I can help fix things, then I have to stay. What about you? Cassandra released you. You could go.”

“I could, but I find myself wanting to see how this story plays out.” Varric countered.

“Thank you,” Nehn said and briefly touched the dwarf’s forearm. 

“Don’t thank me just yet. You may tire of having me around.”

“Not if you keep this flask full I won’t,” Nehn joked as she took another drink.

“I don’t even know your name. Am I right to assume that you aren’t fond of ‘Herald of Andraste’ or have the Dalish reversed their opinion of the Chantry?”

“I’m no Herald - particularly not of Andraste. I am, however, Nehn Lavellan,” she said while shaking Varric’s hand.

“Nehn, huh? It will do for now. I’ll have to give you a nickname eventually. ‘Daisy’ is taken, but if you have a favorite flower I’ll take it under advisement.”

“I’m allergic. I’ve yet to meet a flower that doesn’t make me sneeze. It’s terribly inconvenient as the clan’s First. I was expected to collect herbs for the Keeper. I got used to having a constantly runny nose. Don’t start calling me ‘Sneezy,’ though.”

“So you’re a First then? I should have guessed that when I saw you throwing spells around at those demons. Daisy was a First, too. How’s your sense of direction?”

“My sense of direction?” Nehn asked with confusion _What does that have to do with being a First?_ “It’s very good - why?”

“Oh, Daisy was always getting lost in Kirkwall. I even gave her a big ball of yarn to unravel as she walked around, so she could find her way home. It worked as long as she remembered to anchor the yarn to her front door.”

“What was a First doing living in a human city?”

“I said she _was_ her clan’s First. They tossed her out.”

“Sabrae Clan then. Merrill,” Nehn guessed.

“The very same. You knew her?”

“I met her once at Arlathven - our meeting of the clans. She was quite unique and had unusual ideas about magic,” Nehn recalled.

“Unique is one way to put it.”

“I don’t think she had started with blood magic at that point. She was just very intrigued with spirits and determined to reconstruct an eluvian. Did she ever manage it?”

“Daisy could never get the mirror to work. Eventually, she smashed it much to our relief. I think she resented all that it had cost her.”

Nehn nodded. Merrill’s clan Sabrae was cursed. The Dread Wolf had surely caught their scent as calamity after calamity had befallen them - losing young warriors to a Blight tainted mirror, having to leave their typical region of Ferelden for the Free Marches, losing their herd of halla to a mysterious illness, and having a Keeper that became a demon possessed abomination. Nehn hoped her clan would never capture the Dread Wolf Fen’Harel’s ire as Sabrae had.

“I visited Sabrae once. Our clan was in negotiations to give them some of our halla. Merrill had left by then. Their Keeper Marethari told me her story as a warning not to be tempted by blood magic. I was shocked when we heard what later happened to her. Marethari was very kind. Is Merrill okay? Where is she now?”

“Daisy has become a de facto Keeper now - looking after Kirkwall’s elves after the mess Blondie started.” 

Nehn and Varric sat in companionable silence for awhile watching a fennec stalking some prey that was too small to see. Varric took another drink only to find that his flask was empty. “Allergic to flowers, but you don’t want any allergy related nicknames. This might take me awhile. See you around, Nehn.” 

“You, too, Varric.” Nehn answered while thinking that maybe her time in Haven would be bearable after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Once the stars were fully out, Nehn slid off the rock and headed toward the cabin she had been given. It was odd to sleep inside something other than an aravel or tent, but she appreciated the warmth the cabin’s fireplace afforded her. She was unsure if she’d ever get used to Ferelden’s cold climate. As she made her way past the pen where the Inquisition’s few horses were pastured, she spotted a tall man with blond hair and a fur rimmed cloak walking toward a row of tents that housed some of the Inquisition’s soldiers. Nehn slid quietly into the shadows and waited for the man, who she had recognized as the Inquisition’s Commander Cullen, to pass by and enter one of the tents. She barely knew him having met only twice - once on the battlefield and again earlier today as Cassandra introduced her to the Inquisition’s leadership. When he divulged that he was not only a warrior but a former templar, Nehn’s blood had frozen. Templars hunted mages - particularly one’s that resisted the Chantry’s influence. 

Nehn reached her cabin, waved a hand toward the fireplace to light the fire, and sat down at a small desk. She grabbed a piece of parchment and began to write her thoughts down.

_Garel,_

_It has been an eventful few days to say the least. The humans first thought I had killed everyone at their peace conference, but they now seem convinced I am some sort of religious figure. I can hear you laughing about that now, so get it out of your system before you try to read further. I’ve been very scared and wish you could be here if only to reassure me that the Creators had a plan in all of this._

_The village where I am staying is pleasant. It is sparsely populated, and I can easily slip off into the woods when I need to center myself. You would like some of the people here I think. Harritt is a craftsman like you although his paltry supplies are limiting his ability to make quality armors. I’m planning to help locate some ore for him. It’ll be just like old times with me stumbling onto iron bark or obsidian for you. There is a dwarf named Varric who has been kind to me as well. He is the only person who has asked about my well-being. I think everyone else is still coming to terms with the destruction we have witnessed._

_I will be leaving soon for a place called the Hinterlands. The humans want me to speak with a Chantry mother about getting aid. I hear you laughing again. The Creators certainly have a sense of humor if sending me to enlist the Chantry’s aid was their idea. Please keep an eye on Sylvia, Falon, and Asha for me. They always get up to mischief when I’m gone._

_Ar lath ma,_

_Nehn_

Nehn proofread her letter and left it unfolded to dry. Stripping out of her clothes, she sunk in between the sheets of her bed. The humans were right about beds at least. They were infinitely more comfortable than a bedroll on a wood floor or the ground. And pillows were lovely. Nehn cuddled up to her own and quickly fell asleep.

***********************  
Nehn awoke early the next morning having rested well. Her hand still throbbed, but she was becoming more accustomed to the sensation. After giving herself a sponge bath, Nehn dressed in the leather enchanter’s clothing that Harritt had made for her. Unlike the first set of clothes she had been provided, these fit perfectly and even flattered her figure. 

Cassandra had said that she would accompany Nehn to the Hinterlands to meet Mother Giselle. Nehn wished she could have turned down the black haired woman’s offer. The Seeker’s mix of ill temper and piety terrified Nehn who had to remind herself they were now allies. Perhaps if she could work up the courage to speak with Cassandra, she might find some commonality or at least lower her resentment of the woman.

Solas and Varric would also be journeying with Nehn. The elven apostate Solas mystified Nehn. He had willingly sought out Leliana, the Inquisition’s spymaster, when the breach first appeared in the sky and offered his knowledge of the Fade. If Nehn had been given a similar choice, she would have slid into the shadows and made her way home. She would need to speak with him more, too. Something about his helpfulness rang sour with Nehn, and she hoped to discern his true motivations for offering assistance. Nehn was pleased Varric was coming. He aggravated Cassandra to no end and told amusing stories. He also had excellent taste in alcohol.

Nehn opened the door to her cabin and was relieved to see that Varric was awake and warming himself at a nearby fire. Seeing a friendly face first made the idea of speaking with Solas and Cassandra more palatable. She waved at the dwarf and walked toward him. At the same time, Commander Cullen came down a nearby flight of stairs and collided with Nehn his bulky, armor covered frame sending her tiny body flying. She managed to throw up a weak barrier to cushion her fall but suspected her backside would be bruised tomorrow. _Terrific, I nearly break my tail bone when I’ll have to be on horseback for the next several days. Lucky Nehn strikes again._

The Commander was mortified and scrambled toward Nehn. “Herald, I’m sorry I was absorbed in reading the morning report and not watching where I was walking. Did I injure you?” he rambled in a single breath while offering a gauntled hand to Nehn. She looked at his hand warily. Varric must have noticed her fear because he chimed in, “Don’t be scared of Curly. He looks much meaner than he really is.” With Varric’s endorsement of his character, Nehn accepted Cullen’s offer of aid. With one swift motion, he had her on her feet but had misjudged the force needed to lift her. She found herself pressed awkwardly against him as he again issued a string of apologies.

“Commander, let’s make a deal. I’ll forgive every misstep this morning if you promise to never call me the blighted title ‘Herald of Andraste’ again. You may use my given name ‘Nehn,’ my last name ‘Lavellan,’ or even the term ‘knife ear,’ but please do not call me something I am not and will never be," Nehn offered.

Cullen blanched at Nehn’s suggestion of calling her a knife ear rather than Herald. Knife ear was a pejorative against elves and was highly offensive to them. _She must feel very strongly about not being called ‘herald’ if she would prefer to be know by a slur._ Cullen thought. “Heral... I mean, Lady Lavellan, I will do my best to address you appropriately,” he said with a short bow.

Nehn smiled brightly, “Thank you, Commander.”

Cullen excused himself to begin working with his recruits, so Nehn had a chance to inquire about Varric’s nickname for the tall Ferelden man. “Why Curly? His hair is wavy but not enough that I’d think of calling him that,” Nehn questioned. Varric laughed and said that Curly must spend a great deal on hair lotions now because back when they knew each other in Kirkwall his hair had been so curly that it looked like spiral shaped noodles rather than blond locks. Nehn hooted at the mental image and then asked how they had met in Kirkwall.

“Curly was a templar at the Gallows- Kirkwall’s Circle. I can see you flinching at that, but he turned out to be one of the good ones. Hawke and the rest of us would have been dead if Cullen hadn’t refused to follow his crazy Knight Commander Meredith’s orders. He’s uptight and has a permanent stick up his ass, but he’s okay otherwise.”

Nehn had breakfast with Varric enjoying his descriptions of times spent with Garrett Hawke in Kirkwall. Hawke was famous throughout the Free Marches. Even isolated Dalish clans like Lavellan knew something of Hawke who was also called the Champion of Kirkwall for having thwarted a Qunari invasion of the city. Once breakfast was finished, Nehn knew she had to either see Solas or Cassandra. Since Cassandra trained near where Commander Cullen worked with his recruits, Nehn opted to seek out Solas first. She wanted to give the Commander a chance to lose some of the redness his face had acquired from embarrassment at the morning’s collision.

Solas was outside his cabin staring at the breach and looking very pensive. Nehn didn’t think he had noticed her approach but he spoke to her first, “The chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero sent to save us all...”

Nehn was unsure of his meaning or tone. Surely, he didn’t believe the silly notion that she was any such thing. She decided to make light of his greeting, “Do I get to ride around on a shining steed?”

He smiled only slightly before cautioning, “I would have suggested a griffon, but sadly they are extinct. Joke as you will. Posturing is necessary,” which again left Nehn confused. Did he mean that she should play along with the humans’ lie or that he merely recognized the danger she faced as a Dalish elf amongst Chantry zealots? Before she could ask, he turned his back and launched into an account of his studies of ancient ruins and battlefields and the past events they could reveal in the Fade. Turning back toward her, he stared at her intensely, “Every great war has its heroes. I’m curious as to what kind you’ll be.”

Nehn didn’t care to be a hero of any kind, but she was curious about what he had learned in the Fade from ruins. She decided to answer his question with one of her own, “How do ruins and battlefields let you learn anything in the Fade?”

His intense gaze softened a bit as he explained that spirits were attracted to the history and death held in old buildings and battlefields. The weakened barrier between the physical world and that of the spirits that developed in such places allowed him to travel deeply into the Fade when he dreamt in them. He could then see memories lost to the ages and known only to spirits.

Nehn was entranced. The ability to dream with such focus was unheard of in their time. All mages were tied to the Fade. Their magic came from the ability to draw from the Fade and reshape reality, but to be able to enter the Fade - a land of dreams and shadows- and fully control your journey there was phenomenal. Nehn wished she had such abilities. Perhaps this Solas could teach her something of it. She might never master fade walking but even having the tiniest grasp of the subject would be a thrill.

“I’ve never heard of anyone going so far into the Fade. That’s extraordinary,” Nehn gushed slightly embarrassed by her own enthusiasm. Solas didn’t seem to mind instead he thanked her for appreciating his chosen field of study. Nehn knew Solas didn’t restrict his studies to the Fade. She had seen him fight earlier in the week. He was a force of nature on the battlefield. His claim of being self-taught seemed unreal to Nehn. To have learned so much magic - especially forms like lucid dreaming that had been presumed dead for centuries - entirely on his own seemed very implausible. Nehn kept those doubts to herself instead hoping that the mage would share his knowledge with her regardless of where or how he had gained it.

“I will stay then, at least until the Breach is closed,” he declared which surprised Nehn because she didn’t know he had been contemplating leaving. Solas had volunteered his services. Nehn questioned if his remaining had been in doubt at which point he reminded her of his status as an apostate elf amidst Chantry adherents. Given that she had similar reservations about her own safety, Nehn understood his concerns. 

She knew the mark on her hand granted her some sway with the humans and said, “You came here to help, Solas. I won’t let them use that against you.” 

He replied seriously, “How would you stop them?”

Nehn lowered her voice and spoke with deadly sincerity, “However I had to.” Solas was taken aback by the firmness of her answer. He softly thanked her and expressed hope that they could find allies to help them close the Breach.

Nehn wanted to converse more with Solas, but she didn’t want to appear nosy or overeager. She politely excused herself and went to speak with the apothecary Adan whose cabin was nearby. Nehn liked Adan. He was exceptionally grumpy and blunt, but he had tended to her when she first appeared out of the Breach unconscious with a hand bleeding foreign magic. Adan (and Solas) had kept her alive when others were calling for her death. For that reason and the truthfulness his brusqueness implied, she found herself drawn to him. He greeted her as warmly as his nature would allow and asked her to check a cabin near the lake for notes from the previous apothecary. Nehn enjoyed walks away from Haven, so she happily agreed to assist him.

Helping Adan would take her near where Cassandra passed her time reading reports or thrashing training dummies. Nehn clenched her teeth and prepared to talk with the Seeker who had been her jailor days before and was now to be her traveling companion. _Calm thoughts, Nehn. Imagine how Garel would handle this._ Nehn wished Garel was with her in Haven. He handled people so much better than she did - instinctively knowing how to approach them. Garel always handled the sales of his wares. Nehn stayed in the background and kept things organized. She was not the charmer or negotiator he was. _Fenehdis! I miss you, Garel._

As Nehn expected, Cassandra was setting upon Haven’s training dummies with near religious fervor. Nehn guessed that Cassandra was trying to work out some of her angst over the week’s events. If she hadn’t needed to clear the air between them, Nehn would have turned on her heel upon seeing the Seeker’s mood. She was beginning to suspect that Cassandra’s mood was always sour, though, so delaying things would likely not help.

“I hope you aren’t imagining those dummies are me,” Nehn teased.

Cassandra snorted and resumed attacking the dummies. As she slashed and gouged, Cassandra described her worries over whether she had made the right decision in declaring the formation of the Inquisition. All members of the Inquisition had been declared heretics by the Chantry even though their Divine had authorized the group’s creation in the event of the Conclave’s failure. Nehn was a proud heretic her belief in gods other than the Maker was tattooed on her face to emphasize the point, but Cassandra had been one of the top aides to the former Divine. She was deeply religious, and the Chantry’s rejection cut her deeply.

Nehn listened to the resolve with which Cassandra outlined why she had broken from the Chantry’s rank and file. The Chantry was moving too slowly to address the problem of the Breach and the mystery of its creation. The Inquisition would act while the Chantry would merely vacillate while the world fell apart around it. Nehn found herself respecting Cassandra although the woman still frightened her tremendously. She was honest and trying to make things right. Nehn could work with her.

Cassandra’s next words caught Nehn off guard as she apologized for rushing to judge Nehn so hastily. Nehn had never expected an apology - especially not from a high ranking Chantry official. Nehn was grateful for the apology, and most of her resentment toward Cassandra faded upon receiving it. She knew she had looked guilty as the explosion’s sole survivor - particularly one with a bizarre magical mark on her hand. In consideration of Cassandra’s openness, Nehn said, “It wasn’t as if you didn’t have cause to suspect me.”

Cassandra’s tense demeanor softened slightly as she admitted that she simply needed someone, anyone to blame in the aftermath. Cassandra began to walk away from Nehn and then turned back to ask, “I’m curious. Do you believe in the Maker?” Nehn felt a weight settle in her stomach. Was this woman going to proselytize her or punish her for her beliefs? _And it had seemed to be going so well._ But Nehn was as strong in her own convictions as Cassandra was hers, she answered, “I’m Dalish. We have our own gods.” 

Cassandra looked disappointed but not surprised. “You worship many gods. Do you not have room for one more?”

_Seriously? Did she just ask me to tack an extra **human** god into our elven pantheon? I don’t even know how to respond to that and stay civil. _ Nehn looked blankly at Cassandra trying to formulate an answer that wouldn’t be incendiary or untruthful. She finally settled on simply blinking and staring until the Seeker turned away. _I’ll never get used to humans._


	3. Chapter 3

Nehn, Solas, Varric, and Cassandra had left Haven two days before. As Nehn had guessed, her tumble from the collision with Cullen had left her bottom bruised. Some healing spells had taken the worst of the soreness away, but the time she was spending in a saddle was undoing all of her spell work. Standing up in the stirrups to relieve some of the pressure helped somewhat, but she was becoming more miserable by the mile. “Cassandra, do you think we could make camp early today? It’s either that, or I walk. My ass can’t take any more riding.”

Solas snickered at Nehn’s blunt mention of her discomfort. He had seen her standing in the stirrups and shifting around uncomfortably throughout the day and guessed that she might be saddle sore. Hearing her upfront declaration of the fact was unexpected. He had thought she would be the type to suffer quietly too proud to admit weakness. But there she was, the “Herald of Andraste” sliding down from her horse and kneading her butt with her hands while letting out a contented sigh. Her lack of decorum was oddly charming and her ass was ... quite spectacular. Solas quickly pushed that last thought away as wildly inappropriate.

“Herald, I would prefer we travel further, but I see that you’ve already decided to slow our pace. There is a clearing ahead where we could make camp,” Cassandra offered.

Nehn’s face screwed up in irritation. “I’m sorry, Cassandra, were you speaking to me? My name is Nehn. I am no “Herald” nor will I answer to such.”

Varric shook his head at the standoff between the two women. Cassandra refused to address Nehn as anything other than “Herald,” and Nehn was becoming increasingly agitated with that fact especially after having requested Cassandra call her Nehn repeatedly.

“Why does it offend you so?” Cassandra asked.

Varric swore he could feel a slight sizzle of electricity swirl around them as Nehn closed her eyes and appeared to pray before responding. “Cassandra, you know the history of pogroms against elves carried out in Andraste’s name, and yet you ask why I would find being called her Herald offensive? Never mind that... I’ll make you a deal. I’ll accept being called the ‘Herald of Andraste’ if you’ll agree to be the Dread Wolf’s bitch.”

Cassandra snorted in disgust while Solas’ eyes grew wide at Nehn’s mention of the trickster god. Varric nearly fell out of his saddle laughing. In that moment, Varric settled on a nickname for Nehn. “Hey, Sassy, do you always say what’s on your mind?” he asked.

Nehn bit her lip before answering, “Would you believe that I actually screen the majority of my thoughts?” The apparent truth of her admission drove Varric into another fit of laughter. _Hawke would love her if they ever had a chance to meet._

Once they reached the clearing Cassandra had mentioned, the four travelers began to make camp. Solas noted that Nehn moved with the practiced efficiency of someone accustomed to a nomadic life. He also heard her humming an old elven tune as she worked. He marveled that a tune could survive largely unaltered for millennia when stories could twist so much over time as to be nearly unrecognizable. 

Cassandra set stakes for her tent and thought about the Herald’s words. She had not meant offense with the title but could understand how Nehn had construed it as such. Cassandra was accustomed to using titles for people. Both the Chantry and the Seeker Order had well defined rolls delineated by varying ranks. Addressing someone like the Herald by her first name seemed improper, informal - especially after having called her only “the prisoner” at one time. Cassandra wanted to make sure that the soldiers and people of the Inquisition understood that Nehn was a person to be respected. 

Nehn was kneeling near the campfire keeping weight off her sore backside when Cassandra approached her. “I owe you another apology. I meant no offense by calling you ‘Herald.’ I intended it only as a sign of respect and acknowledgment of my belief that the Maker sent you to us. I cannot control how others within the Inquisition address you, but I will call you by name from now on.”

To the warrior’s astonishment, Nehn didn’t make a snide comment in response but merely accepted the apology and thanked Cassandra. “This Dread Wolf you mentioned. He is an elven god - correct?” Cassandra asked hoping to perhaps draw Nehn into conversation.

Varric interjected, “If Daisy’s cursing was any indicator, the Dread Wolf isn’t exactly a popular elven god. Right, Sassy?”

Nehn stared at the fire and weighed her words. “I would prefer we not speak of him. It was unwise of me to invoke his name so flippantly.”

“Come on, Sassy. Surely you aren’t scared the Dread Wolf will sneak up and bite you for talking about him. Even Daisy wasn’t that superstitious. Tell the Seeker about him, or I’ll try to spin his tale based on what I remember Daisy mentioning. I’m sure to enhance the stories, though.” Varric pressured. 

_You wouldn’t be the first to exaggerate things._ Solas thought bitterly but remained silent in hopes that this particular conversation topic would pass before he said or did something that might give himself away.

Nehn didn’t respond to Varric’s taunting immediately instead she thought of the statue to Fen’Harel that stood outside the entrance to her clan’s camp. The statue’s eyes were always pointed away from the Dalish. Some Keepers claimed it was so he could guard the camp from evil spirits. Nehn felt it was more so that his attentions might fall on others rather than the clan. The Dread Wolf was not a god to cross. 

Nehn stood and stretched. “I think I’ll see if there is any elfroot or embrium in the area. We could use more healing potions and restoratives. If you need me, just follow the sound of sneezing.”

Solas watched her walk away from camp and decided to follow. It would be telling what she would say away from the human and dwarf. She noticed him and stopped until he caught up.

“Come to help gather herbs, or did Cassandra command that you make sure I don’t try to run away?” she asked.

“Neither. I thought you might appreciate the company.”

Nehn smiled and nodded. “You’re an interesting one, Solas. I’m not sure what to make of you. What do you think of other elves?”

“I’m surprised you don’t want to tell me what you think. You are Dalish are you not?”

“Yes. Does that bother you?”

“The Dalish love to proclaim their knowledge of elven culture. Remember, I have walked the memories of the fade. I have seen the history the Dalish imitate,” Solas hissed. 

“Ir ableas, hahren. I apologize if I or my people have offended you. I would welcome what knowledge you might share from your journeys.”

Solas was perplexed by her response. The Dalish he had encountered previously were haughty and dismissive. Nehn seemed willing to learn. Perhaps he had misjudged her kin - at the very least he had judged her too quickly. “Ir abelas... da’len. If I can offer any understanding, you have but to ask.”

“Ma serannas,” she thanked him quietly. “I will do that.”

They walked silently picking elfroot and embrium. Nehn finally spoke. “It was the crack I made about Fen’Harel - wasn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Solas questioned.

“How I offended you. I blasphemed a god in my annoyance with Cassandra.”

“No. Although I did find the imagery your words evoked rather amusing. I let my own prejudices against the Dalish color my view of you - nothing more. ”

“I often speak before I think. It’s not a good trait for a First or an elf surrounded by Andrastians.”

“I assume you gave your Keeper fits - especially when you were younger.”

“You can’t begin to imagine.” Nehn admitted.

 

****************************  
\--Years Earlier in the Free Marches--

Garel knew it had to be done. He needed help. Falon had wandered off and nearly drowned. He found Keeper Deshanna out in the field speaking with Eilen the halla keeper and asked for a word in private. Deshanna directed him to collect her apprentice Nehn and meet Deshanna back at her aravel.

He looked around camp for Nehn’s auburn hair. She was the clan’s First as well as a bundle of energy and magnet for trouble. Nehn was nowhere to be found in camp, so he wandered the boundaries of their temporary settlement knowing she wouldn’t go far on her own. He finally located Nehn off in a field practicing spells out of sight of the rest of the clan. Only Keepers and their assistants like Nehn could wield magic, and they rarely did so in view of the clan. Nehn was practicing some sort of fire spell if the scorched earth near her was any indicator.

Garel waved toward Nehn and shouted her name. The fire she conjured flickered, and she looked up at Garel guiltily. _Ah, so you weren’t to be practicing your magic right now, da’len. You’re always skirting Deshanna's rules._ Nehn walked over to Garel and looked at him warily. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Deshanna what you’ve been doing. She wanted me to get you before I speak to her.”

“What’s wrong?” Nehn questioned her blue green eyes filling with concern.

“Falon nearly drowned. If one of the hunters hadn’t happened by, I can’t bear to think what would have happened. I can’t keep up with Sylvia, him, and my work. I need help.”

“Will you take another apprentice then?”

“That isn’t what I have in mind. Why don’t we wait to speak of this with Deshanna ?”

“Of course, hahren.” Nehn said.

Deshanna was waiting outside for them. “Nehn, you’ve been spell casting. I can smell the smoke on you and see where you singed your robes.”

“Ir abelas, hahren. I merely wanted to improve my accuracy.” Nehn answered with her eyes cast low.

Deshanna shook her head. “You are too impulsive, Nehn, but we will discuss this later. Garel, come inside, and we’ll speak.”

Once they had settled on the aravel’s floor, Garel began to talk. “Selah wanted me to do this. She said I would need to move forward. She said I would need help after...” He stopped speaking and wiped his eyes.

Nehn looked away from Garel to give him space to deal with his grief. Selah had been his wife. She had passed to the Beyond a year earlier leaving Garel and their two children, Sylvia and Falon, behind. Selah had first noticed a knot in her breast when she was pregnant with Falon. Deshanna and Nehn had done what they could but the hard lump grew and spread throughout her body. She died when Falon was a year old. Garel and the entire clan had been crushed by her loss. 

Having regained his composure, Garel began to talk again. “She was right. I can’t do this on my own. I’m asking that you write to the other clans to see if they might send someone to be my wife. She needn’t be attractive or young. I just need someone kind and patient. I’ve had the love of my life already. I only want someone to share the journey and burden with me.”

“Why speak with other clans? We have marriageable women in Lavellan,” Deshanna argued.

“Most are related to Selah. I would rather not marry her sisters or cousins.”

“Nehn, leave us for now. I would speak to Garel alone,” Deshanna commanded.

“Yes, Keeper,” Nehn replied and quickly departed.

“What about Nehn?” Deshanna asked.

Garel was shocked by the suggestion and only replied, “Umm....”

“I can understand your hesitation. Nehn is much younger and will one day be Keeper. Although she is free spirited, she is kind and considerate. Your children already adore her. She is intelligent and has more than enough energy to see to her own duties as well as help you. And she is quite pretty.”

Garel countered, “I am much too old for her, Deshanna . She deserves a chance for a love match. What is she sixteen, seventeen years old?”

“Eighteen. She just seems younger because of her ... enthusiasm.” Deshanna offered choosing her words to describe Nehn’s flightiness carefully.

“I’m nearly twice her age and have two children.”

“All the better to ground her. You know that she needs direction and guidance. This would encourage her to accept responsibility. It would help the clan as well.”

“How would it help the clan?”

“We have no Second. Nehn and I are the only mages. We had to adopt Nehn into our clan to even have a First. Few bloodlines in Lavellan seem to carry magic anymore. Your bloodline carries magic, and hers does obviously. If you two were to have children....”

“Creators, Deshanna, you want me to get her with child, too? I wasn’t looking for a romantic partner. I just need companionship and help,” Garel argued.

“Do you not find her attractive?”

“That isn’t the point. She would likely not find me attractive. I’ve seen her mooning over the young hunters, Deshanna .”

“True but she would grow quickly bored with them. She needs someone smart enough to challenge her mind, and she needs someone calm enough to put up with her. Creators knows she tries the limits of my patience daily.”

“So is this about finding me a wife or getting Nehn out of your hair?”

“Both if I’m honest. She will need to marry in the next few years. Can you think of someone else in the clan that would treat her better than you would, Garel?”

Garel sighed and Deshanna added the last and strongest reason for her proposal, “When Selah knew we couldn’t heal her, she often talked of wanting you to find someone else. You’ve said that yourself. Her choice for you was Nehn. If you don’t trust my judgment, trust hers. At least, let me speak with Nehn about this.”

“You’ve been planning this all along,” Garel accused.

“I’m only following Selah’s wishes and what is in the best interest of the clan,” Deshanna countered. “May I speak with Nehn?”

Garel took a deep breath knowing just how much trouble he was wading into, “Fine. Speak with Nehn, but if she protests...”

Deshanna held up her hand and motioned toward the aravel’s door.

Nehn was near the aravel playing with Garel’s daughter Sylvia. Nehn was sitting cross-legged with her eyes closed and holding very still as Sylvia sprinkled dirt over her head.

“Sylvia, what are you doing?” Garel yelled.

Sylvia stopped sprinkling and Nehn’s eyes popped open. Nehn spoke, “It was my idea. She wanted to pretend to be a healer. We were imagining the dirt held healing magic.” Running her hands through her hair vigorously, Nehn proclaimed, “See it comes right out. No worries.”

Deshanna, who was beside Garel, pressed her lips together and shrugged. 

Nehn stood up and walked toward Garel and Deshanna. “Garel, I know it’s been hard for you and the children since Selah’s passing. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Deshanna smiled triumphantly, “Good. It’s decided then. You’ll marry Garel within the month.”

“What?” Nehn shouted then began to protest. “I didn’t mean that. I meant like babysit, cook supper, or help with chores. He’s old enough to be my father.” Then turning toward Garel, Nehn said, “Sorry, Garel, I hope you aren’t taking this personally. You’re a great guy. I love your children. But still... “ 

During Nehn’s outburst, Sylvia wandered closer and took Nehn’s hand. “Would that mean you’d be my new mamae? I’d like that.”

Nehn looked at the little girl with big brown eyes and dirt smudged cheeks who had lost so much in the past year. Someone from another clan might be able to cook and clean for Garel and his family, but would that person love this little girl like she already did? Nehn kneeled down and nodded, “I guess it does.” Looking up at Garel and Deshanna, she added, “Go ahead and set the date.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Garel,_

_I’ve finally reached the Hinterlands and spoken with the Revered Mother. That was an awkward conversation. Humans are particularly insistent with their beliefs about the Maker, and well, you know how I am. Regardless of my protests, Mother Giselle thinks I should approach the Chantry leadership in Orlais. I don’t quite see how having me stand before the Chantry agreeing with their assertion that I’m not the Herald of Andraste is going to help the Inquisition’s standing. Apparently, I’m the only person that has this reservation, so I assume I’ll eventually be traveling to Val Royeaux. Creators, even the city’s name sounds pretentious._

_The Inquisition’s advisors wanted me to return to Haven immediately after speaking with Mother Giselle. I have remained in the Hinterlands. Don’t accuse me of staying because of my problems with authority figures. I stayed because the people here are desperate, and I can help them. There has been ongoing fighting between mages and templars in the area. People are cold, starving, and sick. I doubt that I can convince the Chantry leadership of much, but I can protect and provide for people here. That is what Keepers and Firsts do after all. Once I can leave the area with a clear conscience, I’ll return to Haven._

_I’ve been traveling with an elf, a human, and a dwarf. I know it sounds like the start of a bad joke. I’ve already mentioned the dwarf, Varric, to you. I still like him, but I think he pries too much. It’s as if he is constantly gathering material for his next book. The human, Cassandra, is slowly growing on me. She is honest and an absolute monster during a fight. It’s hard to dislike someone that has saved your life on more than one occasion. (Don’t worry. I’m being careful. Well, fairly careful. Okay, not careful at all, but I haven’t been seriously injured yet.) The elf is odd. He’s very tall and quite smug. I’ve been trying to get him to explain fade walking to me. My mind keeps drifting off when he talks. He has a very hypnotic and cadenced speech pattern. Deshanna would no doubt chastise me for a lack of focus._

_The Inquisition received a letter from the clan asking if I was safe. I think Deshanna was trying to figure out if I was still being held against my will. I’m staying of my own accord. I asked the Inquisition’s spymaster send a few of her elven agents to calm Deshanna's nerves. I’m sure they’ll try to find every last detail about me that they can. It will be entertaining to hear what falsehoods the clan will tell them. Clan Lavellan is too smart to share anything useful with outsiders._

_Keep watch over the children. Can you believe Sylvia will be 18 this month? The same age I married you. It’s still the best decision of my life._

_Ar lath ma,_

_Nehn_

Nehn completed her letter and conjured a small breeze to dry the ink. After testing whether the ink had set, she slid the letter into an envelope in her pack. Stepping out of her tent, she joined her companions by the fire while absentmindedly playing with a sylvanwood puzzle box that fit in the palm of her hand. 

“What’s that you’re fiddling with, Sassy?” Varric quizzed.

“Nothing,” Nehn replied slipping the box in her pocket.

******************************

\--12 Years Earlier in the Free Marches--

Nehn felt numb. She was staring at Deshanna and willing herself to repeat the vows her Keeper spoke. 

May Elgar’nan, the all-father, create a strong bond between us.  
May Mythal, the all-mother, protect our union.  
May Sylaise, the hearthkeeper, warm the fires of our home and hearts.  
May Falon’Din, friend of the dead, one day help us find each other in the Beyond.

And with those words and a ring placed on her left index finger, Nehn was married. She put on her bravest smile to face the clan as Garel took her hand and led her to their aravel.

Once inside the aravel, Garel dropped Nehn’s hand. Sylvia and Falon were staying with friends because everyone in the clan expected that the marriage would be consummated immediately. Nehn began to dutifully shrug her clothes off when Garel stopped her. 

“Nehn, we don’t have to lay together. I want you to come to me out of love or desire not a sense of duty.”

Nehn pulled her robes back around her shoulders, “You don’t want me?”

Garel ran his hand along the side of her face. “You’re beautiful, Nehn. Of course I want you, but a marriage is about more than what one person wants. I am satisfied with your company and the love you show Sylvia and Falon. If some day you want more, then I’ll be here. To that end, I made something for you.”

He rummaged around in his pocket and handed Nehn a small sylvanwood box. “What is it?” she asked.

“It’s a puzzle box. When you can open it for me, I’ll make love to you.”

“And if I never even try to open the box?” Nehn asked pointedly

“Then we remain as we are. Friends dedicated to the well being of our children.”

“And what if I wanted to open the box, but I couldn’t figure it out?”

“I made it. I know how to open it. You would only need ask.”

Nehn bit her lip and then broke into a bright smile. “Thank you, Garel, for taking the pressure off me.” She wrapped her arms around him in a big hug and then broke contact after a few seconds, “So if we’re not going to have sex now, what are we going to do?’

Garel smirked, “Get to know each other better, Nehn.”


	5. Chapter 5

Nehn stood in front of the Inquisition’s three leaders for the first time in nearly two months. She was feeling sheepish about having stayed away from Haven so long and was expecting their reprisals. Instead, she found them applauding her efforts in the Hinterlands.

“What you’ve accomplished in the Hinterlands is quite impressive -subduing bandits, apostate mages, and wayward templars while also providing aid to common people. You have earned the Inquisition much acclaim, Herald,” the red-haired spymaster complimented.

Nehn flinched. _Let it slide, Nehn. Pick your battles. Ugh - I can’t. I have to say something._ “Thank you, Leliana, but please call me Nehn.” Nehn heard a slight chuckle come from Cassandra who was standing to her left. 

“I understand your unease with the title, but it does reflect how many have come to view you,” the Inquisition’s Ambassador Josephine tactfully implored, “Especially since a woman that matches Andraste’s description was seen behind you when you fell from the Breach as if she were guiding you to us.”

Nehn rolled her eyes and then stared up at the ceiling while trying to calm her breathing. Cassandra bit her cheek knowing that Nehn would soon lose her patience and fully speak her mind. Initially, Cassandra had been put off by Nehn’s sharp tongue, but she had come to appreciate that she always knew where she stood with the mage. Leliana and Josephine would need to learn for themselves. Cassandra looked over at Nehn, who was struggling valiantly to keep quiet. She could almost see the thoughts swirling around Nehn’s head as she began to rub her temples.

“Being known as Andraste’s Herald lends credence to your words and import to the Inquisition’s actions,” Leliana added.

Nehn took a deep breath. _Here we go..._ thought Cassandra, but Cullen intervened before Nehn began to talk, “After all that Lady Lavellan has accomplished, we should do her the courtesy of addressing her as she wishes.” His tone was polite but firm. Nehn looked shocked and closed her mouth before the diatribe that had been forming in her head erupted out. Leliana glared at Cullen sharply while Josephine seemed slightly abashed. Neither woman resumed calling Nehn “Herald” for the remainder of the meeting although the thought of not using Andraste’s assumed blessing for political gains pained them both. 

After discussions on requests and opportunities that had been presented to the Inquisition were ended, Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine began to push for Nehn to travel to Val Royeaux. They reasoned with the goodwill she had won in Ferelden’s Hinterlands that she might be able to get the Chantry’s support for the Inquisition. Nehn listened attentively to them and finally spoke, “I’m a newcomer to human society, so please forgive my ignorance, but how am I to convince these religious leaders that the Inquisition isn’t heretical? I proudly renounce your Maker in favor of the elven gods. My face is emblazoned with vallaslin showing my dedication to Sylaise. I firmly believe that Andraste has nothing to do with this mark. Wouldn’t it make more sense for Leliana and Cassandra as former aides to the Divine or even Commander Cullen as a former templar officer to approach the remaining Chantry officials?”

Cassandra answered, “None of us have the ability to close rifts. Whatever you believe about how the mark was acquired, you are the one chosen by the Maker or fate to bear it. It must be you who speaks because you are the only one with a chance to mend the Breach. I will accompany you, however, and offer what support I can give.”

Nehn looked at her left hand which glowed with green magic, “I’m starting to resent this blasted thing. Fine, I’ll go.”

When the council meeting ended, Nehn left the Chantry feeling bone tired. Every few paces someone would greet her as “Herald.” She had corrected the first few people that did so, but everyone in Haven insisted on using the name. By the time she had reached her cabin, she was struggling to keep from crying angry tears.

Varric called out to Nehn, “Sassy, it looks like you could use some distraction.” 

Nehn let go of the door knob to her cabin and questioned, “What did you have in mind, Varric?” 

“Do you know how to play Wicked Grace?”

“What is that?”

“It’s only your new favorite pass time,” Varric announced while producing a deck of cards.

Nehn eyed him suspiciously, “Is this where I lose all my coin to a wily dwarf? I’ll warn you that I have 15 coppers to my name.”

“15 coppers? That isn’t even enough to ante up. I’ll spot you some silver until you get the hang of things. Then you’ll have to earn your own way.”

“It’s a deal.”

Nehn sat down near Varric, and he explained the rules of the game. “I can’t remember all of that.”

“We’ll play a few sets. If I taught Hawke’s mabari to play, I can teach the Andraste’s Herald.”

“Ugh! Not you, too. Please, Varric, don’t call me that. I hate it.”

“Just teasing, Sassy. Is that what had you upset earlier or was the war council more heated than normal?”

“The ‘herald’ thing really bothers me although listening to four humans argue with each other for hours didn’t help matters. The worst part of those council meetings is that I’m always having to weigh in and break ties. I’m not a spy or a military strategist. And I’m certainly no diplomat.”

Varric snickered at Nehn’s admission. “What you lack in tact you make up for in sincerity. Besides the Inquisition needs someone willing to call people out on their bullshit, Sassy.”

“That I can manage. What I don’t know how to do is deal with this ‘herald’ nonsense.”

“People are scared. Believing that the Maker sent you to help eases that fear.”

“But it isn’t true.”

“You think it isn’t true. They need to think it is. What’s the harm in indulging them?”

“Deceit is never good. I don’t even believe in the Maker.”

“Maybe you’re wrong about the Maker or maybe one of the elven god’s sent you. Maybe this is all bullshit but if a name gives people hope, let them use it.” Varric offered and then shook his head as Nehn tried to lay down a card, “Sassy, you don’t want to discard that knight. You want to build matching sets. Also don’t tilt your cards forward when you draw. It lets your opponent see your hand.”

“Fenedhis! There’s too much to remember.”

“What does that curse mean anyway? Solas uses it as well.”

Nehn blushed. “It’s similar to the statement ‘Maker’s balls‘ in that it references a nearby part of a male wolf’s anatomy.”

“So you Dalish blanch at talking about the Dread Wolf but curse by talking about his cock?”

Nehn started giggling. “I hadn’t ever thought of it that way, but you’re right. Who knows? Maybe the Dread Wolf doesn’t mind it because he is well endowed.”

“A sharp tongue and a dirty mind. If Bianca didn’t already have my heart...”

“How could I ever compare to such a wonderful piece of machinery? I would never dare to try.” 

Varric patted his crossbow Bianca lovingly, “She really is a gem. What about you? I get the feeling that someone already holds your heart.”

Nehn’s eyes teared up. “Yes, and I miss him very much.”

“He wasn’t at the Conclave with you I hope.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Nehn answered her eyes looking very distant before she drew another card, “Ah, the Angel of Death! That ends the game - right? Did I win?”

“Let’s see your hand. Three knights. Very nice. That beats my pair of serpents. Congratulations! You’ve already won more games of Wicked Grace than Daisy ever managed.”

*********************  
\--Years Earlier in the Free Marches--

Nehn stripped her clothes off and walked into the cool stream to bathe. “Fenedhis! This is too cold, Ayla.” 

Ayla who had already waded to the middle of the stream shook her head. “You’re the mage. Warm the water if it doesn’t suit you. I could use the coolness. Taran is being very stubborn about waiting for our bonding ceremony.”

Nehn looked over at her freckle faced best friend. “Really, Ayla? He’s still holding out on you? It’s rather funny that the clan’s prude would fall in love with the clan’s slut.” Nehn winked to show she meant no offense.

“What can I say - I love sex. There’s no shame in enjoying what the Creators provided. Surely you understand that by now. Garel looks like he’d be quite the lover.”

Nehn rolled her eyes and eased further into the stream.

Ayla squinted and her mouth dropped open. “Nehn, you have slept with him - haven’t you?”

“I sleep beside him every night.”

“You know what I meant. Nehn, you’ve been married almost six months. I understood the reluctance at first, but this is getting ridiculous.”

“It’s not like that. He doesn’t expect me to... I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“You need to talk about this, Nehn. What is your hold up? He’s smart, kind, and obviously patient. You’re his wife. A man has needs. Don’t you wonder what he’s like?”

“He is still in love with Selah.”

“He told you that?”

“He doesn’t have to tell me. I see it in his eyes when I’m holding Falon. He wishes she was there instead of me. I couldn’t take seeing that same look with him inside me.”

“So you have feelings for him. Nehn, for someone that mouths off at every opportunity, you are doing a piss poor job of speaking with your husband.”

“I don’t want to mess things up. What we have now is good. We love the children. He teaches me things about crafting and listens to me bitch about Deshanna. He makes me little trinkets and tells funny stories when I’m sad. He’s so good to me, but there just isn’t a spark.”

“You’re a mage. Make one.”

“There are no potions or incantations for love, Ayla. And Selah...”

“Is dead, Nehn. She’s dead, and you’re not. You’re beside him. You’re building a life with him. Has he never tried to seduce you?”

“No. He left that up to me. He gave me a puzzle box and said that we would make love when I could open it in front of him.”

“So where is it? Let’s figure it out, and get you laid.”

Nehn sighed with disgust. “It’s in our aravel. I put it away when he gave it to me.”

“You haven’t even tried to solve it? I can’t believe you, Nehn. You love figuring things out. I would have thought your own curiosity would have you fiddling with it.”

“At first, I didn’t want to be with him in that way. It was enough trying to adapt to living with him and the children. Then I started to notice things about him that were endearing. He always gives me the larger piece when he breaks a piece of bread. He goes by Hahren Meriah’s aravel every morning to make sure that she is well and has breakfast. He makes toys for the clan’s children with his scraps and gives them away. He never tells me to calm down when I’m upset. He just listens.” 

“Sometimes I wake up, and he’s holding me in his sleep. His arms are so strong, and I feel so safe and happy. But the moment he wakes up, he pulls away from me. I don’t want to bring him that box and make him feel obligated.”

“You love him, Nehn. Maybe he feels the same way about you. I think you’re both getting in the way of love and nature. Here’s what I want you to do. Get the box out and play with it where he can see you. You don’t even have to try to solve it. Just see what his reaction is to your trying.” 

“What good will that do?”

“He’ll know that you’re open to the idea of being more than his roommate and nanny. Nehn, you’re pretty and have a great body. That puts nature on your side. The two of you are already friends. It isn’t that big of a step to become lovers. You can do this. It just takes a little courage.”

Nehn and Ayla finished their baths and walked back to camp together. When they reached Nehn’s aravel, Ayla hugged Nehn and whispered in her ear, “Be brave.”

“Mamae Nehn!” Sylvia shouted and ran to Nehn’s side. “Papa says I have to go to bed soon. Tell me a story first.”

“Get yourself ready for bed I’ll be inside shortly.”

Sylvia went inside the aravel, and Nehn sat down beside Garel. “Is Falon already asleep?”

“Yes, he drifted off just a little while ago. Did you have a good time with Ayla?”

“She’s a good friend. Always pushing me to do better.”

Garel patted Nehn’s leg, “You always try your best, Nehn. I don’t see that there’s much room for improvement.”

Nehn supposed that was a compliment, but did that mean Garel was content with how things were? _Courage, Nehn._ “I’ll go get Sylvia settled. You’ll be up awhile longer - right?”

“Yes, I’d like to finish fletching a few more arrows. The hunters will be going out tomorrow morning.”

Nehn told Sylvia the story of how Sylaise taught the early elves how to make rope from hemp fibers, so they would have a way to capture halla. Sylvia loved any story that involved halla. Nehn guessed she would one day devote herself to Ghilan’nain, the halla keeper, and help tend the clan’s flocks with Eilen. After patting Sylvia to sleep, Nehn went to the other side of the aravel where Garel and she slept. She dug through her trunk and found the tiny puzzle box. _Courage, Nehn._ Slipping the box in her pocket she returned to the camp fire and Garel.

Garel was stripping and trimming feathers to make fletching for arrows. His hands worked with practiced precision and speed. Nehn simply watched him for a time marveling at his quick movements. Garel looked up at her a few times and smiled but went back to being absorbed in his work. When Garel got up to get some arrow shafts and wet sinew, Nehn took the box out and examined it.

She nearly put the box back in her pocket as he walked back but didn’t. _Courage, Nehn._ He sat back down beside his pile of trimmed feathers and began to bind pairs of matched feather to the arrow shafts with the wet sinew. He hadn’t noticed what Nehn was doing. She quickly became intrigued with the box itself. She could move pieces of the sylvanwood around and at times it felt like things might be clicking into place, but she couldn’t open the box.

Garel had finished attaching feathers to a few arrows when he noticed Nehn was being unusually quiet. He peered across the fire to see her looking peeved at something she had in her hands. He nearly asked what she was doing when he recognized the box. A smile crept across his face, and he returned to working on the arrows. Every now and then, he would glance up hoping to catch Nehn’s eye, but she was completely enthralled by the box. He finished with the arrows and sat them aside. He contented himself watching Nehn work on the box, nearly solve it, and then get stuck at the final few steps. She had yet to notice him observing her.

Nehn finally gave an exasperated sigh and looked over at Garel who returned her shy gaze with a smug smirk. “Having trouble with that?” he asked as he stood up and walked toward her.

She growled in annoyance and asked, “How long have you been watching me?” 

Garel sat down beside her and whispered in her ear, “About six months or so... It’s not easy keeping my eyes off you.”

Nehn’s heart fluttered and her cheeks flushed. She briefly looked away from Garel’s intense stare then settled her eyes on his lips. “Do I have to figure this out to get a kiss?”

“No, kisses are free.” Garel said taking her in his arms and pressing his lips to hers gently at first and then with deepening urgency. The effect on Nehn was electric. She felt warm and tingly all over and just wanted to be closer to Garel. Eventually, they had to breathe and broke away from the kiss. Nehn let out a shuddering breath, and Garel chuckled. He put one of his hand over the one of hers that held the box. “I could show you how to open this now, but I have the feeling you might enjoy the challenge of trying to solve it on your own.’ As he spoke, he let his other hand trail along her face, neck, and side before holding her waist tightly. Nehn was left speechless and just squeaked in reply.

“Ar lath ma, Nehn,” he said before kissing her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ar lath ma" is "I love you." in elven.


	6. Chapter 6

The trip to Val Royeaux was excruciatingly slow. While Nehn had worked diligently to secure better horses for the Inquisition, the horsemaster named Dennet wouldn’t release his herd to the Inquisition until watch towers were built throughout the Hinterlands. Cullen’s soldiers were building the towers, but Dennet had only provided a single horse to the Inquisition thus far - a chestnut Ferelden Forder given to Nehn specifically. The remainder of her traveling party was left with considerably older and less sound mounts. Travel through Orlais was also made difficult by an active Civil War between the Empress Celene and her rival Grand Duke Gaspard. 

Nehn grew increasingly bitter as they traveled through Orlais. The path from Haven to Val Royeaux went through the Dales, a part of Thedas that had once been reserved for elves. Centuries before humans had rescinded their promise to allow elves to live there unmolested. Elves were massacred in a holy war. Those that survived either submitted to human rule and became second class citizens forced to live in slums called alienages or like Nehn’s forebears refused to surrender and adopted a nomadic life instead. Elven statues and ruins were everywhere in the Dales. They served as constant and quiet reminders of what had been lost.

Solas noticed the change in Nehn’s attitude and challenged her about it when they were out of earshot of their companions. “Are you mourning the Dales and Halamshiral?”

“Our people lost so much here. It was a place of belonging, knowledge, and history. We were nearly annihilated trying to preserve it.”

Solas scoffed, “The Dalish long for Halamshiral, but it was a fumbling attempt to recreate a forgotten land.”

“Are you speaking of Arlathan? Have you seen it during your journeys in the Fade?” Nehn asked with palpable curiosity.

Solas tilted his head and studied Nehn with interest before speaking. “Elvehnan was the empire, and Arlathan its greatest city. It was a place of magic and beauty lost to time.”

“What was it like?”

“You’ve probably heard elves lived in trees. Imagine instead crystal spires that twisted through branches and palaces floating in the clouds. Imagine beings that lived forever for whom magic was a natural as breathing. That is what was lost.” Solas said wistfully.

“What we had a Halamshiral we might obtain again. Immortality and the magic you describe are likely lost to us forever because of Fen’Harel’s betrayal. Without the Creators, elves will never be as they were. Instead we must endure and preserve what we can,” Nehn argued.

“The Dalish preserve nothing. Instead they mangle elven history. They are children playing at the truth and twisting it beyond recognition,” Solas spat out.

Nehn screwed up her face and then hissed back, “What is your problem? You talk about the Dalish dismissively, but I’ve yet to hear you give specifics as to where we’re wrong. If you know better, teach us ...teach me. Otherwise, the Dread Wolf can take you and the damned chip on your shoulder.”

Solas gave Nehn a predatory smile, “And you presume that I would want to teach you?”

“I presume nothing. I am merely telling you I am willing to learn. What I am unwilling to do is entertain your insults against my people. You fault us for not knowing things found only in ancient memories that we have no ability to reach. Expecting the Dalish to have your knowledge gleaned from the Fade is as fair as me demanding a dwarf wield magic,” Nehn said while standing toe to toe with Solas her head tilted upward at a sharp angle to meet his piercing blue eyes.

Solas considered Nehn’s words and nodded his acknowledgement, “You have a fair point. I expect things of the Dalish they could never hope to achieve. If you will listen, I will teach.”

“And will you leave your smug attitude behind, or is that why you’re named pride, Solas?” 

“For one named joy, you are certainly hostile. You ask me to help you and then insult me. Are these the manners the Dalish teach their children?”

Before Nehn could respond, Varric chimed in, “What is it with you elves? Leave you alone for a few minutes, and you end up at each other’s throats.” 

 

***********************  
\--Years earlier in the Free Marches--

Nehn awoke cuddled up to Garel’s chest. She had yet to solve the puzzle box, but the two were becoming more intimate. Garel no longer pulled away when he awakened holding Nehn, and they were slowly learning each other’s bodies with the warring tentativeness and urgency of young lovers. Nehn stretched and then heard what had roused her. Falon was crying.

It was summertime and sleeping in aravels was too stifling, so the clan pitched tents or slept under the stars instead. Nehn got up from her spot next to Garel and went to the tent Falon and Sylvia shared. She retrieved the nearly inconsolable toddler and shivered in the cool night air. While saying a quick prayer to Sylaise the hearthkeeper, Nehn flicked her wrist and lit a small fire to warm her while she rocked and sang to Falon. Garel woke and sat up on his elbows watching Nehn and his son. A sad smile crossed his face only to be replaced with a look of utter confusion when Nehn glared at him.

Once Falon had fallen back to sleep, Garel took him from Nehn’s arms and placed him beside Sylvia in their tent. Returning to Nehn, he found her staring into the fire and crying. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear him first. Are you not getting enough rest?” Garel asked trying to guess the cause of her upset.

“It’s not that. I hate it when you’re looking at me and thinking of her. I know you wish she was here instead of me. It just hurts to see it.” Nehn said through strangled sobs.

“Where did you get that idea? I miss Selah, and I always will. She was my first love, and the mother to my children. I was thinking about her but not in the way you imagined.” 

“Then what were you thinking?” Nehn said while intentionally avoiding looking at Garel.

“I was thinking what a blessing she had given me and the children by encouraging me to find love again,” he answered quietly.

“Oh...” was all Nehn could manage to say before Garel had wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. Stepping back after luxuriating in the kiss, Nehn said, “I guess I shouldn’t assume I know what people are thinking.”

“Probably not,” Garel smiled, “But if you assume that I’m thanking the Creators for you, you’d be right most of the time.”

“Sweet talker,” Nehn teased before settling down to fall back asleep.

The next evening Nehn was sitting with Ayla and holding Falon while listening to the clan’s storyteller Arden. Sylvia was up front with the older children absorbed in Arden’s story while Nehn tried to keep Falon occupied and quiet. Getting desperate to entertain Falon, Nehn handed him the puzzle box. He played with the sliding wood pieces for a bit and then grew agitated. “Fix it,” he demanded, so Nehn worked as much of the box as she could before handing it back to him. Nehn enjoyed the legend the storyteller was sharing, so she stopped paying attention to Falon as he had gotten content. 

“Ooohh, pretty!” Falon said holding up a silver chain with a small pendant.

“Where’d you get that?” Nehn whispered as Falon handed her the necklace.

Falon held up the puzzle box which he had opened. Nehn’s eyes grew wide, and she nudged Ayla. Ayla smiled deviously while pulling Falon into her lap and said, “I’ll take care of Falon and Sylvia for the night. Nehn bit her lip, blushed bright red, and hugged her friend. Trading Falon a small stuffed animal for the box, Nehn made her way back to Garel.

Garel was busy mending leathers for one of the hunters, so Nehn went inside their aravel. She unbraided and brushed her hair, changed into a flattering robe, and pinched her cheeks before applying a tiny bit of vanilla extract to her pulse points. Satisfied with her primping, she picked up a soft quilt, ambled up to Garel, and waited for him to notice her.

“Don’t you look especially pretty,” he said with a wide grin. “Where are Sylvia and Falon?”

“Ayla has them. I thought we might go for a walk in the woods,” Nehn replied using the clan’s euphemism for sex while dangling the pendant in front of Garel.

He threw his head back in laughter and said, “Finally figured it out then.”

“Well, it was your son that solved it, but I’d wager you’re willing to accept that,” she answered while handing Garel the quilt. Everyone in the clan knew not to follow couples headed into the woods with a blanket hence the euphemism of “taking a walk in the woods” for sex.

Garel thought about cleaning up his work space before leaving but quickly pushed that idea aside. They’d waited long enough already. Taking Nehn’s hand, he smirked as she blushed and avoided his eyes “Come on then. I know just the spot,” he encouraged as he lead her away from camp.

“You’ve been scouting locations?” she joked.

“I had to do something to keep my mind occupied the past few weeks. I’ve had a hard time concentrating, since I first saw you trying to open that box.”

Nehn giggled, “I’ve been rather frustrated by it myself. Why did you make it so hard to open?”

“I thought you’d just ask for help. I had no idea how stubborn you were.” 

“Technically, I still don’t know how to open it,” Nehn admitted.

“Thank the Creators for Falon’s mechanical aptitude. I don’t know how much longer I could have gone.”

They walked in moonlit silence for some time before Garel stopped and kissed Nehn passionately. He then laid the quilt down on top of a bed of soft moss. Nehn suddenly felt very shy and looked around anxiously. It was a beautiful area - tall oak and hickory trees stretched upward while the forest floor was covered with mayapples and ferns. Some lady’s slipper orchids bloomed at the base of a nearby tree and a small stream ran nearby providing a quiet song of cascading water.

“Do you have the necklace?” Garel asked.

Nehn handed it to him and then questioned, “Why did you choose an eagle for the pendant?”

“They’re beautiful, intelligent, and mate for life,” Garel explained while putting the necklace on her. When it was clasped, he pulled her hair aside and kissed a place on her neck just below her ear that he had found made her weak kneed a few days before. Nehn inhaled sharply and trembled slightly. Garel’s eyes twinkled as he stepped away and sat down on the quilt. Holding his hands out to Nehn, he invited her to join him which she did tentatively.

While rubbing his thumbs in slow circles over the tops of her hands, Garel said simply, “This is your first time,” to which Nehn nodded too embarrassed to meet his eyes. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Nehn. We’ll take our time, and go at your speed. There’s no rush.”

Most of the tension eased out of Nehn’s body with his words, and she leaned forward to kiss him again. They kissed for awhile and then he encouraged her to turn around and lean against his chest. “Let me show you how to open the box. Close it up and then solve it as far as you can.”

Nehn rested her head back on his shoulder and followed his instruction. With each correct move, Garel would kiss her neck, caress her body, or murmur words of love and desire in her ear. By the time she had the puzzle nearly solved, Nehn was practically shaking with want. Garel then put his hands around hers and showed her the last few moves and opened the box. The combination of Garel’s touch and the box’s symbolism made the moment intensely erotic for Nehn who was practically undone without having removed any clothing.

Setting the box aside, she turned to Garel and made to remove her robe. He stopped her and instead undid the laces and buttons himself kissing and praising her as he removed her clothes. Not feeling nearly as patient, Nehn tugged at his shirt insistently which left Garel laughing. 

Nehn laid back and looked up at the stars through the trees as Garel moved over her. Enjoying seeing his muscles strain against his skin as he kept his weight off her, Nehn watched Garel as he trailed soft kisses and touches all over her body. Running her hands through his dark brown hair, she encouraged him to kiss her lips again. Everything felt so right she wondered why she had hesitated so much. Putting her hand to his cheek and staring into his blue eyes, she cooed, “Ar lath ma vhenan’ara.”

“Ma emma lath bellanar,” he replied kissing her again and pressing himself against her. “Ma sa’lath,” Nehn whispered before submitting completely to Garel’s attentions allowing his experience and confidence to guide and embolden her response to him. The slow, meditative pace of their love making was broken only once when Garel inadvertently brushed a particularly ticklish spot on Nehn’s side. She convulsed in laughter and curled into a tight ball. Garel tickled her ruthlessly before she gasped for mercy.

“Isala ne,” Nehn panted while opening herself to Garel. “Ma nuvenin,” he replied before taking her fully.

After making love, Nehn and Garel remained in each other’s arms. Garel rubbed Nehn’s back and toyed with her hair while Nehn kissed his neck and traced the outlines of his muscles with her hand. Garel shivered and commented on the night air being too chilly to remain naked. Nehn objected to putting their clothes back on and instead conjured a warming spell around them. Garel settled beside her and grinned. “A hidden benefit to being married to a mage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some elven  
> Solas=Pride  
> Nehn=Joy  
> Ar lath ma, vhenana'ara. = I love you, my heart's desire.  
> Ma emma lath bellanar. = You are my eternal love.  
> Ma sa'lath. = my only love  
> Isala ne. = I need you. (This is my own conjugation. It may not be perfect elven.)  
> Ma nuvenin. = As you wish.


	7. Chapter 7

Nehn woke early and sat atop a toppled statue of Andruil’s owl writing a letter in the dawn’s thin light. She and her companions were returning to Haven from a failed attempt to garner Chantry support in Val Royeaux. Nehn had told her advisors the journey would be fruitless, but they had insisted she go anyway. Her party would soon be leaving the Dales to travel across the Frostback Mountains into Ferelden. Nehn wished she could instead head up to Jader, catch a boat across the Waking Sea, and return home to her clan in the Free Marches. She couldn’t leave for home, however, not with the gaping hole in the sky still menacingly present. 

_Garel,_

_We left Val Royeaux about two weeks ago. The city was enormous although we largely stayed in the market district. You would have been revolted by the things they were selling there. So many materials were wasted on unnecessary embellishments. Their armor, clothes, and weapons were all ridiculously ornate. The nobles wear masks around all the time, too. I couldn’t leave there quickly enough although they did have very tasty pastries._

_Solas claimed he had seen memories of Val Royeaux when it was a young city. The humans were slovenly and selling beads from mud-covered tents. Who would have thought then that their people would one day have elves for servants? In Val Royeaux, I saw so many elves walking with their heads down and shoulders hunched. The elven servants in Ferelden and the Free Marches carry themselves with more dignity. It pains me to see such submissiveness so near to where we once had a kingdom._

_The Chantry rejected our overtures outright, but we were surprised to see that the Templars in the city turned on the Chantry leaders. The Templar leader even allowed one of his men to hit a Revered Mother. I thought that was unnecessarily rude. The Orleasian nobility were panicked to hear that the Templars were withdrawing from Val Royeaux. With the civil war all around them, I guess the military strength of the Order had given the city and its grand cathedral some protection. Cassandra was very distressed to see the Templars and their leader Lord Seeker Lucius acting so cavalier toward the Chantry. I was more concerned with what their actions and attitudes would mean to the Inquisition and mending the Breach. It seems unlikely at this point that we can rely on them for any help._

_Three different people approached us while we were leaving the city. One was Grand Enchanter Fiona, the leader of the mage rebellion and an elf. She invited us to parlay with her in Redcliffe later. I will likely take her up on the offer although I can’t understand why she would travel to Val Royeaux to meet with the Inquisition when Haven is so much closer to Redcliffe. The second person I met is a city elf named Sera. She runs some sort of clandestine group bent on aggravating nobility. Although she claims that I’m too “elfy” for her liking, I invited her to join us. She is quite brash, and I think she may be hitting on Cassandra but I’m not sure. Cassandra seems irked by the attention. The last person I met was a Circle trained mage name Vivienne. She made a great show of how loyal she was to the Chantry and its Circles as if that would impress me. She offered her help to the Inquisition, and I declined. She seemed like a power hungry viper. Dealing with the one megalomaniac mage I already have in my company is enough._

_Speaking of my traveling companions, Cassandra and I have become much friendlier. Outside of her occasional proselytizing about the Maker, she is a good person with a keen interest in doing what it right. I’ve decided that I like her. Varric is still great fun. He is always distracting us with stories, card games, and alcohol. His book sales and other interests must make him very wealthy. He is never wanting for coin and shares freely. Solas is an ass. I thought Deshanna was a supercilious know-it-all, but she has nothing on him. I have learned, though, that if I keep him talking about the Fade and ancient memories he is bearable. He also has some interesting insights on magic and has taught me a few spells. I never feel like he is being completely honest with me although I can’t point to any incident where I’ve caught him in a lie. It’s just this vague sense of unease that Ayla would say was my “bullshit meter” going off._

_They’ll be looking for me soon, so I’ll close for now. I don’t want to explain who I am writing to. Despite the spymasters best efforts, the Inquisition knows nothing of our family. I would like to keep it that way. I don’t want them having any additional leverage on me._

_Ar lath ma,_  
_Nehn_

Nehn dried the ink with a spell and placed the letter inside a thick envelope in her pack. She spent some time in meditation and prayer before hearing someone approach. Opening her eyes and reaching for her staff, she was relieved to see it was only Varric. 

“Don’t fry me, Sassy!” he kidded. “I am only here to report that breakfast is ready."

Nehn slid down from the statue and asked, “Who cooked this morning?"

“Solas. You missed quite the argument. Sera kept telling him that he was making things too elfy. In return, he kept adding more rare ingredients. I don’t know whether to be excited or worried about how it will taste.”

“We’ll watch Cassandra eat it first. Her every thought goes across her face. We’ll know if it is awful without having to try it ourselves,” Nehn advised. 

“I like that plan - especially the part about letting the Seeker be our taster. If its poisonous or inedible, then she can be the one to get sick.” Varric agreed.

Varric and Nehn had nearly made it back to camp when he stopped and pointed to her backpack, “I have a question before we reach camp. I often see you sitting off to yourself scribbling furiously on parchment. What are you writing?” 

“Letters,” Nehn responded. 

“Is that so?” Varric quizzed while looking unconvinced with her response. 

“People write letters all the time, Varric. Is it really so odd?” Nehn argued. 

“It wouldn’t be odd if I ever saw you send one of them. Are your writing a book? I’ve noticed that you just put whatever you’ve written in an envelope in your pack.” 

“What I’m doing is none of your business, and I’d better never catch you going through my things.” 

“Message received, Sassy. Just remember I have plenty of contacts in the publishing business if you’re ever interested.” 

***********************  
\-- 10 years earlier in the Planasene Forest, Free Marches-- 

“What are you doing, Nehn?” Deshanna asked with irritation. “We need to get on our way, or we’ll be late for Arlathven.” 

Nehn leaned her forehead against the tree where she had been retching. Deshanna and she had set out for Arlathven, the once-a-decade meeting of the Dalish clans’ leadership, three weeks earlier with a few of their hunters as guards. Their clan was camped further north near Tantervale. Nehn had first gotten sick around Wildervale which was a little less than halfway to their final destination in the Planasene Forest near Cumberland. Nehn had constant nausea and lethargy from that point forward. She couldn’t remember a time she had felt so tired and miserable. 

“I’m coming, hahren. Just give me a minute,” Nehn said before beginning another round of dry heaves. 

Deshanna heard Nehn being sick and came over to check on her. Putting her hand to Nehn’s forehead, she announced that Nehn didn’t have a fever. “How long have you been ill?”

“I first started feeling bad about 10 days ago, but it just keeps getting worse.”

The older woman’s face showed concern as she slipped into healer mode. “Is it just vomiting, or are your bowels an issue, too?”

“Just vomiting and fatigue. Everything tastes bad and smells worse.”

Deshanna’s worried look turned to a faint smile, “And when did you last bleed, da'len?”

Nehn was taken aback and then furrowed her brow in thought. She hadn’t had a period in nearly two months, but she was never very regular. “You don’t think I’m pregnant - do you?”

“Possibly. How late are you?”

“It’s been two months."

Deshanna raised an eyebrow. “And have you been trying to conceive?"

“I haven’t been trying not to...” Nehn answered evasively.

“Time will tell, but my best guess is that you are expecting. I will make a morning sickness band for you. It should take the edge off the nausea. If you are pregnant, the sickness is a good sign.”

“I don’t see how feeling this horrible could be good.”

“The sicker you are at first, the less likely you’ll miscarry. Your body is adjusting to growing a new life. It gets better in a few weeks for most women. Really, Nehn, you’ve helped me care for enough pregnant ladies to know these things already,” Deshanna said with a combination of caring and frustration.

“Knowing them and living them are two different things, Deshanna.”

“True enough, da’len. Wash your face, and get ready to leave. We’ve nearly made it to the meeting point. One more day of riding, and we’ll be there. Arlathven starts in three days, so we’ll be a little early. We’ll get a better campsite that way.”

Nehn nodded while her mind whirred. Why hadn’t she considered the possibility she was pregnant? She had been very conscientious about drinking potions to prevent conception at first, but she had gotten quite lax in the past four months. Could it have happened that quickly? Creators, she might be showing by the time they caught up with the clan. How was she going to keep up with three children? What would Garel think? 

Nehn noticed that in her worrying she had inadvertently started a small fire. She quickly summoned water to put it out and resolved not to think about things further. After washing her face and fixing her hair, Nehn went to tell Deshanna she was ready to leave. The older woman tied a leather cord with two small shells attached to it to Nehn’s wrist. “The shells will push against pressure points that will relieve your nausea - at least some of it,” Deshanna advised. “The bracelet will also let others know to be especially sweet to a Mamae in the making.”

Nehn covered her face with her hands. Deshanna patted her back. “You’re already a mother - an excellent one at that. Most women don’t go through their first pregnancy with that knowledge. It will be fine. You’ll see.”

“I need to tell Garel.”

“Write him a letter, Nehn.”

“There’s no way for it to be delivered, Deshanna.”

“Write it anyway. It will get the feelings out, and you can show it to him later. But don’t write it now. We’ve got to be on our way, or we’ll end up camped near some of the clans from the Anderfels. They don’t bathe often enough."

“Do you think most of the clans will make it with the Blight in Ferelden?” Nehn asked.

“I’ve heard Sabrae has already traveled northward. I hope the other clans move to safety, too. Zathrian’s clan is usually in that part of Thedas, but I haven’t received any news of them.”

And Clan Ralaferin?”

“Your mother clan will almost certainly be there. It is one of the largest, and always seems to have extra mages. Ralaferin didn’t know what they’d lost in giving you to us.” 

Nehn teared up at Deshanna’s words. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” Nehn admitted. Deshanna just smiled knowingly in response.


	8. Chapter 8

Nehn shivered in the harsh mountain air as she walked alongside her chestnut mare. They had finally made it through the mountains and back to the Inquisition’s base of operations in Haven. Nehn wanted nothing more than to head to the tavern, order the strongest ale and warmest food served there, and sit close enough to a fire that she would occasionally have to turn herself like a pig on a spit to keep from being roasted. Cassandra was insistent that they proceed directly to the Chantry to speak with the Inquisition’s advisors.

Handing her horse’s reins to a stable boy, Nehn pleaded with the Seeker. “Cassandra, I’m exhausted. Let me warm up and eat before I have to listen to those three shout over each other.”

“You might want to listen to her, Seeker. You’ve seen how testy Sassy gets when she’s hungry and tired. The meeting will go more smoothly if you let her do it on a full stomach,” Varric advised while Nehn looked at him appreciatively.

Cassandra made a disgusted noise then said, “Fine. Eat and rest. You might consider bathing and changing clothes as well. We’re all rather rank.”

Nehn grinned widely and practically skipped off to the tavern. Nearly anything sounded better than listening to her supposed advisors. The three were so set in their thinking and methodologies that they always gave the same recommendations. Leliana would argue that any problem could best be solved by spies, blackmail, or assassins. Cullen would send troops anywhere for any reason. And Josephine would pretend that nearly all issues could be fixed by choosing the right words or contacting the right people. It was all bullshit, and in the end Nehn would have to come up with a plan that would appease all three that she could implement herself while they were given side jobs to keep themselves and their people busy.

But that wasn’t her problem at the moment. Her problem was placing an order while avoiding the tavern owner Flissa, who always offered herself as well as her ales to Nehn. Usually, Varric would get their drinks, but he was no where to be found, and Nehn was ravenous. Nehn surveyed the tavern for any familiar faces and saw only one. While she didn’t actually see his face, the wavy blond hair and scruffy fur covered mantle that Commander Cullen wore was easily identifiable. Stuck between asking the former templar for help or facing Flissa’s advances, Nehn quickly chose to place her own order. 

Once she had requested her ale and roast chicken, Nehn tried to find a place to sit. Being perceived as a holy icon presented its own difficulties as entire sections of the tavern would shift as she tried to sit down. Not wanting to disturb others, Nehn thought about carrying her food out of the tavern when Cullen motioned to her. _Well, shit_ Nehn thought as she forced a smile and sat down at his table. Outside of their required interactions as part of the war council, Nehn steered clear of the huge man that scowled nearly all the time.

To Nehn’s surprise, the Commander smiled as she brought her leg over the bench and settled into place. He spoke first, “It seems that your trip to Val Royeaux didn’t go as hoped. I wish the Templars had come to their senses rather than abandoning them as well as the capital, but I’m sure you didn’t come to the tavern to discuss Inquisition matters.”

“No, I was rather hoping to avoid them to be honest. I had hoped for some good food and easy conversation. The food is coming, but the mark seems to intimidate people from speaking with me,” Nehn responded.

“Are you so sure it’s the mark that is intimidating?” Cullen asked.

Nehn laughed, “Thus speaks the man who is never without his sword and armor.”

Cullen brought a gloved fist to his mouth to cover the smirk that had formed there. “Fair enough. So am I right to assume that you _have_ been avoiding me?”

Nehn cocked her head and sized up the Commander. He seemed the type to appreciate directness, but there was only one way to be sure. “Absolutely, Commander. Why wouldn’t an apostate elf stay out of the way of a mage hunter?”

Rather than looking annoyed as Nehn expected, Cullen seemed more saddened by her response. “I am no longer a Templar,” he said firmly while gripping his mug.

“I’ve heard you say that before, but what does that mean? Do you no longer believe mages need supervision? Is commanding the Inquisition merely a change of rank or a change of heart?”

“You certainly ask a lot of personal questions for someone that has been avoiding me until a few minutes ago,” Cullen commented dryly.

Nehn shrugged. Flissa appeared with Nehn’s meal and sat it down while making sure to lean so that her breasts were in front of Nehn’s face. Nehn leaned to the side to keep eye contact with Cullen, and Flissa bent over more nearly toppling Nehn off the bench. “Oh, Herald, I’m so sorry.” Flissa said while reaching for Nehn who was scrambling to regain her balance and also avoid Flissa’s imploring hands.

“That’s quite alright, Flissa. Thank you. I’m fine. You can go,” Nehn responded vehemently while Cullen snickered. Flissa curtsied and left while Nehn watched her retreat warily. “I don’t know who or what gave her the idea that I’m interested, but she is quite persistent.”

Cullen sat quietly for awhile and then said, “We should get to know each other better, since we will be working together for the foreseeable future. I offer the following proposal - I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.”

“I’ll agree to that within reason,” Nehn replied. “So what’s your first question, Commander?”

Cullen decided to skip the pleasantries and go for the biggest question he had about Nehn. “Why were you at the Conclave?”

Rather than being put off by his question, Nehn appreciated him asking what was no doubt on many peoples’ minds. “The Dalish tend to avoid contact with humans, so I can see why my presence would be considered odd. Do you know much about our clan structure?”

“I know very little about the Dalish and have always been under the impression that they preferred humans not know much about them.”

“True in most cases. Our history with humans is troubled, so we tend to avoid interacting with them. Still you’ll need to know a little about the Dalish to understand my answer. We live nomadically in clans. Each clan is lead by someone called a Keeper. Their assistant is known as a First.”

“I am aware of that much,” Cullen chimed in.

Nehn continued, “A clan’s Keeper and First are always mages. Every ten years since the fall of the Dales, the different clans’ Keepers have met for something called Arlathven. It is an incredibly important time to share knowledge and trade with other clans. It keeps the Dalish from becoming completely fragmented as a people. The last one was held during the Fifth Blight. We should have had one this year, but for the first time in hundreds of years it was postponed.”

“Why?” Cullen asked.

“Because we couldn’t risk having the Dalish leadership - all of whom are mages - in one place during a war between mages and templars. In the past, the templars largely ignored the Dalish because we limit the number of mages in each clan and train ourselves to use magic primarily in secret. Since the mage/templar war began, some templars have widened their mage hunting to include the Dalish. I came to the Conclave in hopes of learning whether there was hope for peace or to reach out to the mages if there was not.”

“So you’ve already decided against consulting the Templars for help with the Breach?” Cullen queried.

“I thought it was my turn for a question, and no, I have not yet ruled out investigating the Templars.”

“I apologize. It is your turn. Ask away,” Cullen responded.

“Why did you leave the Templar Order?”

“I had done all I could as a Templar. I no longer wanted to be bound to the Order or that life. Cassandra presented me with an opportunity for a new vocation - a chance to start over. I took it.”

“I would have preferred more specifics, Commander, but I’ll accept the answer. Your next question?”

Cullen pondered for a moment. There were many things he wanted to know about the tiny auburn haired woman sitting across from him, but something she had said earlier left him intrigued. “You mentioned the Dalish limit the number of mages in a clan. How?”

“It’s pretty simple. Once there is a Keeper, a First, and a Second, then any other mages born into a clan are relocated,” Nehn said matter-of-factly.

“Relocated? And please don’t count that against my question quota.” Cullen said teasingly.

Nehn smiled at his weak jest and answered. “Most clans try to find a different placement for their extra mages. That’s another reason Arlathven is important as most exchanges take place then. I was ten when Clan Lavellan took me. I was born into Clan Ralaferin.”

“Leliana would kill to know these things about you. She’s been trying to compile a dossier on you, but every person in your clan tells a different story,” Cullen mentioned.

Nehn beamed, “I knew Clan Lavellan was smart. If Leliana wants to know something about me, she can ask. Whether I choose to answer is my own business, however. My turn for a question?”

“If you’ll permit it, I have just one more related question about Dalish mages.”

Nehn rolled her eyes. “Perhaps you should take over interrogations, Commander, but fine I’ll answer.” 

“If you can’t find a clan to take a mage, then what?”

Nehn’s eyes darkened, “It varies. Some clans just encourage the mage to live as a hunter or craftsperson. That rarely works. Untrained mages can be unintentionally dangerous.”

“On that point we agree.” Cullen interrupted.

“Other clans will educate them as mages and allow them to stay with the clan, but that is problematic as well. Too many mages in one place attract Templar attention. Most clans opt to turn the mage out from the clan once there is a chance that they will survive on their own.”

“A chance to survive on their own? You mean the mages that are released are children? That’s barbaric,” Cullen said with disgust.

“It is no more barbaric than imprisoning everyone born with magic, Commander. At least, those expelled from their clans have freedom. To the Dalish, nothing is more important.”

Varric and Solas entered the tavern and scanned around for Nehn. “Now there’s something I never thought I’d see,” Varric commented pointing at Nehn and Cullen who were deeply engaged in conversation. Solas’ eyes narrowed briefly before his face resumed an impassive mask.

“I don’t know about you, Chuckles, but I’ve got to find out what they’re talking about,” Varric said as he crossed the tavern.

“Seeing the condition of this establishment, I’ve lost my appetite,” Solas said before turning on his heel to leave. Varric watched the elf stride away and remembered how Fenris would stalk away similarly when Anders appeared. _Moodiness must be an elf thing._

Varric put his hand on Cullen’s shoulder and asked, “Curly, who’s the new girlfriend?” and then added with a wink to Nehn, “She’s a little out of your league don’t you think?”

“Girlfriend? Maker, no! Nothing like.... that, Varric. We were talking about ... our lives prior to the Inquisition.” Cullen stammered while his ears turned pink.

“Varric, where were you earlier? I had Flissa shoving her boobs in my face a few minutes ago because you weren’t here to run interference,” Nehn chastised.

“I’m sorry, Sassy. Solas wanted me to help him carry some materials to Minaeve. He picked up some weird shit from that rift we encountered and thought she might want to examine it,” Varric explained.

“Now that you have someone else to keep you company, I’ll excuse myself, Lady Lavellan,” Cullen said as he stood to leave.

“Oh no, you don’t, Commander.” Nehn said while reaching across the table to stop him. “It’s my turn for a question.” 

Cullen reluctantly sat down and folded his arms. “Ask away.”

“It’s really a two part question, but seeing as I indulged several additions to your last question I expect answers to both parts. Do you trust me and my abilities as a mage? And if so, why do your Templars shadow my every move here in Haven?” Nehn inquired while gesturing toward two heavily armored men trying to look inconspicuous in the opposite corner of the tavern.

Cullen glared at Nehn and then looked at Varric. “Is she always this abrasive?”

“She always speaks her mind. I find it charming as long as it's not directed toward me,” Varric answered while nudging Nehn in the ribs. “And Curly, stop trying to avoid the question. You let Blondie and Daisy run around Kirkwall with less supervision.”

“And we all know how well that turned out,” Cullen answered sourly.

“You’ve got me there, but Sassy isn’t Anders or Merrill. Surely even you can see that. Answer her question. I’m curious to hear your reasoning,” Varric said while leaning back and tenting his fingers.

“All mages are in danger of possession especially this near the Breach. It is merely a precaution,” Cullen explained.

Nehn challenged, “But it’s fine for me to go out in a small team and confront demon spewing rifts? And you never said whether you trusted me, Commander, but I believe your earlier answer speaks for itself. Thank you for your honesty at least. I won’t keep you further.”

Cullen opened his mouth as if to reply but instead bowed his head and took his leave.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on him, Sassy. Living in Kirkwall would make anyone twitchy around mages,” Varric pointed out.

“You aren’t twitchy,” Nehn noted.

“Yeah, but everyone knows I’m a special case. It’s the chest hair. Makes me damn near invincible as well as irresistible.”

Nehn snorted and leaned on Varric’s shoulder to whisper. “If you’re irresistible, do you think you could turn Flissa’s eye away from me, please?” 

Varric gave a loud hoot and said, “Sassy, you’re on your own with that one.”

*************************  
\-- 10 years earlier in the Planasene Forest near Cumberland, Nevarra --

Nehn sat at the back of the gathering of the Dalish mages with the rest of the clans’ Firsts. The meeting was only two days long, but it was already interminable to Nehn. The morning sickness band Deshanna had fashioned for her wasn’t helping much and all the various smells that swirled around her only made her sicker. Still she was trying to pay close attention as the Keepers who sat closer to the fire argued over Dalish lore and customs. The variation amongst their stories and interpretations dumbfounded Nehn. 

She had only been ten at the last meeting -a terrified young girl hoping that one of the clans would need her. If not, she would be left with a tent, tools, and a few provisions near enough to a human city that she could make the choice whether to approach city elves for aid, turn herself into the humans’ templars, or simply try to forge a life for herself alone. Fortunately, Clan Lavellan needed a mage, and its Keeper Deshanna saw something in Nehn. The Keeper from her old clan impressed upon her that she was now a Lavellan and would one day lead that clan. Through tear-filled eyes, Nehn hugged her older sister who was also a mage that would be leaving with another clan. _At least we’ve both found places._ Nehn said to herself as she wiped the tears from her eyes and took Deshanna’s hand. “Mala suledin nadas.” Nehn said quietly to remind herself that now she must endure as countless elves did before her.

If she had noticed the contentiousness between the clans at that last meeting, Nehn didn’t remember it. The Keepers agreed on very little other than the Dread Wolf being an evil trickster. Outside of that consensus, the different clans‘ tales of the elven gods, magic, and Arlathan were incredibly disparate. Nehn tried to piece together some unifying theory for the different tales but the fatigue and nausea she was fighting made her mind slow.

The wind changed direction bringing the smell of manure from the halla pens to Nehn’s attention. Her head began to swirl as her stomach lurched. She needed fresh air quickly if she was going to avoid another round of retching. Apologizing as she stepped over and around the other Firsts, Nehn finally made it out of the closely packed group of mages and walked a ways into the forest. A soft voice beckoned to her and when she turned around Nehn saw Sabrae’s First offering a wet cloth to her.

The other mage, Merrill, was around Nehn’s age and had the largest green eyes Nehn had ever seen. Earlier in the day, Merrill had made a short presentation on the odd mirror her clan had encountered in Ferelden at the very beginning of the Blight. Merrill had sought help from the other clans to reconstruct the mirror which she called an eluvian. Unbeknownst to her, Sabrae’s Keeper Marethari had made it clear that her requests were to go unaided. The mirror she sought to repair had been touched by the Blight and was cursed.

Nehn took the wet cloth while saying, “Ma serranas.”

“I hope it helps. I’ve noticed you’ve been miserable for most of the meeting,” Merrill said quietly while pointing to Nehn’s bracelet. “Are you expecting?”

“I’m pretty sure that I am, or I have the most persistent case of food poisoning in Thedas,” Nehn joked while mopping her face. “How is your clan? Did you lose many to the Blight?”

“Keeper Marethari moved us quickly once the darkspawn began to emerge. Two of my friends, Tamlen and Mahariel, were killed by them, but most of our clan was spared. We’ll be traveling to Sundermount after this.”

Nehn’s eyes widened. Sundermount was near the human city of Kirkwall and had a bloody history that left a very weakened Veil and many elven graves. “Our clan avoids Sundermount. It is setheneran. There are rumors of many spirits and evil in the area. Perhaps you could convince your Keeper to go elsewhere.”

“I can convince Marethari of very little. We no longer see eye to eye,” Merrill said sadly.

“Are you speaking about the eluvian? It sounds dangerous. Perhaps you should let it go.”

“How will we rebuild our nation if we neglect the past?” Merrill challenged.

“It is hard to move forward while looking backward,” Nehn answered. “Although my thoughts are likely colored by listening to a bunch of grumpy mages debate history for the past two days. In any event, I should get back to the group before my Keeper misses me. Thank you again for the cloth and checking on me. You’re very kind. Mythal’enaste.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven Phrases  
> Mala suledin nadas = Now you must endure.  
> setheneran = a place with a very weakened veil  
> Ma serannas = thank you  
> Mythal'enaste = May Mythal bless you.


	9. Chapter 9

Nehn’s conversation with Commander Cullen had left her shaken. She had suspected that he didn’t trust her but getting confirmation of that had upset her more than she expected. She was risking her life and missing precious time with her family for these people, and they didn’t trust her enough to let her walk around their camp unsupervised.

Varric watched her poke at the food on her plate. “Now I know how elves stay rail thin.”

“What?” Nehn asked roused from her morose thoughts by his odd comment.

“You don’t eat. Elves are tiny because they just play with their food. I thought you told Cassandra you were hungry. Is something wrong with the chicken?”

“No, it’s fine. Speaking with the Commander just killed my appetite,” Nehn admitted.

“And to think my first reaction to seeing Curly and you sitting close together and talking was that you might be thinking of two timing that guy you’re always writing. Solas must have had the same idea. He stormed out of here when he saw you. You do realize that he has a thing for you - right?”

“That’s not funny, Varric, on so many levels I can’t begin to describe,” Nehn said while drinking the remainder of her ale in one large gulp.

“Whoa there, Sassy. You weigh maybe 90 pounds soaking wet. Drinking alcohol that fast will get you messy drunk.”

“It would if I kept drinking. I’m done for the night. I’ll see you around, Varric,” Nehn said as she stood and motioned to her templar chaperones that she would be leaving. The templars tried to act as if they hadn’t noticed but followed her out the door.

“Yeah, that’s not going to be good,” Varric muttered as he watched Nehn go. He looked longingly at his unfinished meal and wine then followed the templars.

Nehn had barely walked twenty paces from the tavern when she stopped to face the two men tailing her. She held out her hand in greeting and said, “My name’s Nehn and yours are?”

Varric sucked in his breath and observed from the shadows. This would go down two ways - Nehn would disarm the men with her wit, or she would eviscerate them hopefully with just words. In any case, she needed back up even if she didn’t realize it. Templars were a touchy bunch when it came to mages with big mouths.

The two templars stopped dead in their tracks obviously confused whether they should respond or pretend they hadn’t been following her. After a few moments pause, one of the men spoke, “I’m Knight-Lieutenant Evan, and this is Ser Marshall.” Evan kept his demeanor calm and his hands at his sides, but Marshall had reached for his sword the moment Nehn had turned.

“Pleased to meet you. Would you care to walk with me rather than trailing behind? It puts me on edge to have people with swords lurking behind me. If you must guard me, I’d prefer we be open about it. That way I don’t have to keep turning around to make sure you aren’t about to impale me,” Nehn said as casually as if she were describing the weather.

Marshall visibly bristled, and Varric moved his hand to Bianca’s trigger. Nehn was playing with fire. Both men had served in Kirkwall with Cullen. Varric assumed they were not complete assholes if Curly let them join the Inquisition, but even incomplete assholes had breaking points.

“Our orders are to follow you, Herald. We are not to interfere with your activities unless necessary,” Evan said using the same eerily calm voice. When Evan turned slightly, Varric caught sight of a dagger tucked in his right hand. _Shit_ Varric thought before he stepped out of the shadows and began talking.

“It’s a great night for a stroll. Don’t you think?” Varric said as he wrapped his arms around the backs of both templars. Evan twitched and Varric tsked him. “You should put that away before someone gets hurt, Ser Evan. You never know when you might stumble and injure yourself.” Evan gave Varric a murderous glare but put his dagger in his boot.

“The lady is making a reasonable request. Most men would be quite happy to go for a walk in the moonlight with a beautiful woman” Varric said while he squeezed the templars to him tightly. “Perhaps we should all go speak with the Commander, and see if this is what he intended when he asked you to watch Lady Lavellan.”

Nehn looked exceptionally aggravated but said nothing. The last thing she wanted to do was go begging Cullen to call off his hounds. Still Varric claimed he knew the Commander fairly well, maybe Cullen wouldn’t be keen on the latent aggression his templars held. It took every ounce of her self control, but she followed Varric and the templars to the Commander’s tent.

“Hey, Curly, are you still up? Shit, who am I kidding? You hardly ever sleep. Come on out. Some of your men need to report in,” Varric said theatrically.

Cullen emerged from his tent in full armor while his eyes burned with anger. “This had better be good, Varric.” Catching sight of Nehn and her templar guards, he stood straight and folded his arms. “Knight-Lieutenant Evan, report.”

“We were following the Herald as requested, sir. She left the tavern, and then turned on us.” Ser Evan began. “We were preparing to defend ourselves when the dwarf interfered.” Nehn stood aghast at his lie but didn’t refute it. A human would always believe one of their kind over an elf.

Varric coughed, “Bullshit.” Stepping nearer to Evan and easing Bianca forward, the dwarf started talking, “That isn’t what I observed. I heard Sassy introduce herself and request that you walk beside her rather than trailing behind. She wasn’t even particularly rude about it. Ser Marshall nearly drew his sword when she turned to speak, but I’d guess Ser Evan had his dagger in hand when he left the tavern because I never saw him reach for it.

Cullen’s face twisted in anger. “You were given specific orders to _watch_ the mages here in Haven not to follow them with daggers drawn.”

Ser Evan reached for his sword, but Cullen and Varric were faster. Cullen’s blade was at Evan’s throat, and Bianca was thrust against his stomach before his sword was half drawn. Nehn had fade stepped away and conjured a barrier but did not cast any other spells. 

Evan spat out, “You’re a disgrace, Commander. She’s a fucking knife-eared mage, and you and the rest of the Inquisition dare to call her Andraste’s Herald. She should be dead like all the people she killed at the temple.”

Guards responded to the fracas, and Evan and Marshall were soon disarmed and chained. Marshall protested his innocence saying that he had only been caught off guard by Nehn’s sudden movement, but Evan continued to rave and demand Nehn’s death. Cullen ordered the two templars to be taken to the dungeons and then turned to Varric. “I had no idea. Thank you, Varric. If we’d lost her...”

“Yeah, Curly, I’m not who you need to speak to...” Varric said while tossing his head toward Nehn who was standing several paces away with her staff drawn ready to cast. 

Cullen knew he had one chance to approach her. His templar training said to dispel her magic, subdue her, and then talk to her from a position of power. His system still had enough lyrium in it to follow that instinct, but he reminded himself that he wasn’t a templar any longer. The scared woman in front of him had done nothing wrong. Going against everything he had been conditioned to believe was right, Cullen slowly lowered his sword and removed a dagger from his boot before walking toward Nehn with his hands held up in front of him.

The Commander could feel Nehn’s magic building around her. If she chose to unleash it, he would likely be killed. He had created this situation, and it was his to fix. “Lady Lavellan... Nehn...” he began, “I apologize.” To his amazement, Nehn replaced her staff on her back and the crackling aura that had been building around her subsided.

“Apology accepted, Commander,” she said in a whisper before fade stepping out of sight.

After disappearing from view, Nehn had taken off running. She stopped only when she reached a small cabin on the far side of the frozen lake that apothecary Adan’s mentor had used. She had found it weeks earlier on an errand for Adan. Barring the door, she slid down the wall quaking with fear. For being in a place named “Haven,” she didn’t feel very safe. 

Nehn found a wash basin and soap in the cabin and conjured some water to give herself a sponge bath. Cleaning herself calmed some of her nerves, but she was still badly shaken. If Varric hadn’t intervened... 

She debated whether to start a fire as it would give away her location. Reasoning that people could just as easily follow her tracks in the snow, Nehn placed a few logs in the fireplace, said a prayer to Sylaise, and then waved her hand to ignite a blaze. Staring into the fire, Nehn felt her body relax. Fire always had that effect on her. It was how her magic first manifested and why she had dedicated herself to the hearthkeeper goddess Sylaise.

Nehn knew she needed to figure out her next move. Pulling her puzzle box out of her pocket, Nehn began to push the pieces around while considering her options. When had her life gotten so complicated? It had once been enough to endure Deshanna’s nagging, enjoy her friends’ company, care for her children, and love Garel. Then everything had started going sideways.

Nehn resolved to sleep on things before trying to tackle any more problems. Laying down on a bed in the cabin, she forced herself to think of a good memory. She didn’t want her mind to slip into the Fade disturbed by worries which could attract the attention of demons. 

The next morning, Nehn woke to someone knocking on the cabin’s door. Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she briefly thought about not answering it. The knocking persisted, however, so she got up and pulled on her leathers before opening the door. She had expected Varric or Cassandra to be the one to track her down and drag her back to Haven instead Solas was before her looking righteously angry.

Opening the door fully, she mentally prepared for his reprisals for running away. Avoiding conflict was after all the Dalish way, and Solas hated the Dalish. Instead of lecturing her as she expected, he fumed about the templars and apologized for not staying closer to her the night before. She was dumbfounded by his indignation and concern for her. Their relationship was tense on good days and positively icy on the rest. 

“So what will you do?” he asked as she splashed her face with water while trying to wake up fully.

“What do you mean? I have to go back. I can’t close the Breach on my own, and I can’t secure help from either the mages or templars by myself. My feelings are irrelevant. I will endure,” she said with resignation.

Solas closed his eyes tightly when she spoke of enduring. For a Dalish, she had a wonderful grasp of being Elvehn. Enduring was all elves from his time could expect. A long life meant uncountable losses, disappointments, and mistakes interspersed with moments of joy. The only victory to be had was in pressing forward, but this child before him understood that. It had taken him centuries of living to realize it.

“I underestimated you. You have a remarkable spirit,” he responded.

Nehn turned away before he could see the tears welling in her eyes. Garel had said the same thing about her once. Creators, she missed him. Pushing her feelings down, Nehn put on her armor, picked up her staff, and walked with Solas back to Haven.

Cassandra was slashing at training dummies while Cullen stood watching her violent thrusts. They were engrossed in a heated conversation. Nehn assumed they were discussing her. Solas offered to join her as she walked toward them, but she shook her head. This was something she needed to do on her own.

Cullen noticed Nehn’s approach first. His hand trailed to the back of his neck - a tic that Nehn recognized indicated his discomfort. At least he had the good sense to be ashamed of what had nearly happened the night before. Shortly after Cullen, Cassandra saw Nehn. She stopped hacking at the dummies, worked her shoulders loose, and dropped her sword. 

Nehn came up beside them and said, “We should convene the war council. I’ll meet you in the Chantry in an hour to discuss our next steps.” With her message delivered, Nehn continued toward the gates that led to the village. The crunch of snow behind her let her know the conversation hadn’t ended.

“Lady Lavellan, I would like to speak with you,” Cullen’s voice echoed behind her. Nehn stopped and waited for the burly man to reach her. He was fast despite his heavy armor, and she recognized how easily he could have tackled her the night before. “Thank you for waiting. I again wanted to apologize for what transpired yesterday. I have often let my experiences with magic negatively shape my view of all mages. That is unworthy, and I will strive to do better. You asked if I trusted you. Although I’ve done nothing to show it, I do implicitly trust you and your abilities. I have seen the dangers and evils of magic, but I see nothing of that in you. You will no longer have templars assigned to you.”

“And what of the other mages here in Haven?” she asked with her head held high to allow her to fully meet the Commander’s eyes.

Cullen pursed his lips. He hadn’t expected her to challenge him on that front. For the second time in less than twenty four hours, he felt himself stepping away from his training when he responded, “They will have their freedom as well.”

Nehn smiled. “Thank you, Commander. Was there anything else?”

Cullen’s hand again went to the back of his neck, and he stammered, “No ... unless there was anything you needed of me?”

Nehn shook her head and continued toward her cabin before Varric flagged her down. “Thanks for looking out for me, Varric.”

“Anytime, Sassy. I’ve got to keep my drinking buddies alive and well. Are you okay after all that went on?”

“I think so. Honestly, this morning’s events have me more confused. Solas showed up at dawn acting concerned and considerate, and now Commander Cullen has agreed to pull supervision from all of Haven’s mages.”

“You know what I like about you, Sassy? You are completely clueless as to the effect you have on people.” _Myself included_ he thought. 

Nehn looked even more befuddled before thanking Varric again and heading to her cabin.

_That S.O.B. in the Free Marches better appreciate what he has in her._ Varric thought as he squatted down by the fire. 

***************************  
\-- 10 years earlier outside of Tantervale in the Free Marches--

Garel’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he saw Nehn, Deshanna, and the hunters riding into camp. They had been gone for over a month to Arlathven. Sylvia and Falon had occupied Nehn at first, and he hung back smiling and watching them lavish her with welcoming hugs and kisses. Nehn presented them with two small gifts - a doll for Sylvia and a miniature bow and arrow for Falon - that she had gotten trading with other clans. 

With the children absorbed in playing with their new toys, Nehn went to Garel and buried herself in his embrace. “Creators, I’ve missed you,” she whispered as he kissed the top of her head. “Ar lath ma, Nehn,” he responded before kissing her lips gently since they were in front of the children. Holding her close to him, he noticed that she felt very thin. “Nehn, have you not been eating?”

She sighed. “I’ve tried, but nothing stays down. I had wanted to find a more romantic way to tell you, but Deshanna thinks I’m pregnant.”

Garel stared in disbelief and then picked Nehn up and spun her around. “I can’t believe it. I mean... that’s great... I just ... wow...” he stammered.

Nehn laughed. “I was worried you’d be upset. We hadn’t really been planning this.”

“You can’t plan everything, Nehn. You’re always bracing for the worst and never hoping for the best. Sadness will find you no matter what you do, but happiness, joy ...you have to be open to receive them. Mythal’s mercy, there’s nothing you could have told me today that could have made me happier.”

Nehn started to cry and then cursed, “Fenedhis. I’ve been an emotional wreck. I started bawling this morning when I saw a mother mallard and her ducklings. Deshanna says its perfectly normal, but it makes me feel ridiculous.”

“You could never be ridiculous,” Garel said. “Precious, treasured... but never ridiculous.”

Nehn nuzzled Garel’s neck and teased, “You’ve already gotten me with child. There’s no need for sweet talking now.”

Garel chuckled and then said, “So how far along?”

“About three months now. I’m starting to have trouble fastening my robes. Do you know any craftsmen that might make me a new outfit?”

“I might have a few connections that I could call on,” he answered with a wink. “Three children... we’re going to be very busy and very blessed.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Our soldiers have completed the watch towers that you requested be built in the Hinterlands,” Cullen commented as the war council convened.

“Excellent. I will speak with Master Dennet when I return to the area to meet with Grand Enchanter Fiona,” Nehn replied.

Cullen looked concerned. “Lady Lavellan, I know that last night’s incident with the templars may have given you a bad impression of the order, but I still feel that they are our best hope of managing the Breach.”

Nehn wrinkled her forehead and answered, “That had nothing to do with my decision. Only the mages have offered to speak with us. Lord Seeker Lucius and the templars were completely uninterested in a parlay.”

“We could make the Templar Order respond to us if we build sufficient influence,” Cullen continued.

“I’d rather take an open invitation than force my foot through a doorway,” Nehn said sharply.

Cullen sighed in defeat and looked at Cassandra for support. She merely crossed her arms. They had asked the Herald to make this decision, and she was disinclined to second guess Nehn publicly.

“I did have a question about the men you arrested last night, however. Ser Evan seemed intent on causing me harm, but what of the other one - Marshall?”

“He is being interrogated, Herald,” Leliana spoke.

Nehn winced both at the implications of Leliana’s agents interrogating the man and Leliana’s use of the title “Herald.” “I think we should release him,” Nehn said.

“What?” all three advisors said in unison.

“He made no actual move to hurt me. He was nervous, but he never drew his weapon. His only crime was being assigned to a patrol with a racist lunatic. Culpability for that should fall more on his Commander,” Nehn said pointedly while looking directly at Cullen.

“I see your point, Lady Lavellan. Other than release the man, what would you have me do?” Cullen asked thinking she might recommend his resignation.

“Not hire any more assholes if possible,” Nehn said simply.

Cassandra rolled her eyes and chuckled while Leliana gave a coy grin. Josephine feigned shock at Nehn’s candor and Cullen smirked. He answered with a slight bow, “A very sound recommendation, my lady. I will endeavor to see it carried out.”

Once the mundane business of the war council was handled, Nehn started to leave the Chantry, but Leliana pulled her aside to talk. The spymaster was concerned with the disappearance of Grey Wardens throughout Orlais and Ferelden. The order was always secretive, but they tended to maintain a visible presence in Thedas. She expressed concern that their disappearance might be linked to the Divine’s death.

Nehn had a hard time imagining a connection between the two, but the missing wardens concerned her nonetheless. The Grey Wardens were an ancient order dedicated to eradicating darkspawn - the Blight corrupted creatures that prowled caverns and the Deep Roads. Blights like the one experienced in Ferelden occurred when the tainted creatures poured onto the surface leaving destruction and death behind them. Only Grey Wardens could end Blights. Without them, Thedas could be consumed.

Leliana had heard rumors of a Grey Warden recruiter in the Hinterlands. Nehn agreed to search for the man, a warden named Blackwall. Perhaps he could give insight into what had happened to the wardens and relieve both of their concerns. After a few days more in Haven to rest and resupply, Nehn, Varric, Cassandra, Solas, and Sera departed for the Hinterlands. 

After arriving in the Hinterlands and spending time convincing Master Dennet to release his horses as well as become the Inquisition’s horse master, Nehn and her companions traveled to Lake Luthias where Warden Blackwall had last been sighted. Upon meeting Blackwall and gathering little information about the disappearance of the other wardens from him, Nehn refused his offer to join the Inquisition. Cassandra, as the only warrior, was furious with Nehn for turning down aid - especially from someone with Blackwall’s aptitude. 

Cassandra’s fuming made Nehn uncomfortable, so she slipped away from camp to meditate and compose a letter. Leaning against a pillar erected in honor of an Avaar warrior queen, Nehn prayed for Mythal’s protection and Sylaise’s blessing on her family. She had never intended to be away from the children this long. Any moment when she wasn’t actively fighting or planning, Nehn’s mind would drift to them. Reminding herself they were in good hands, Nehn pulled some parchment from her pack and began writing her letter.

_Garel,_

_We’re back in the Hinterlands. Our travels should be easier with the horses we’ve acquired. I’d still prefer a halla, but my chesnut mare, D’Ami, is swift and sound. Master Dennet agreed to be the Inquisition’s new horsemaster, thanks to the silver tongue I picked up from being around you. He’s an odd man - calls me “Inquisition” as if I’m a thing not a person. I have to admit I prefer that to “Herald,” however. That particular title continues to plague me. I’ve pretty much stopped fighting it. The humans utterly refuse to listen to reason._

_Cassandra is angry that I turned down a Grey Warden’s offer to join us. Something about him felt off, and I’ve learned to trust my instinct about such things. Maybe it’s because he was so different than the wardens that came to our clan recruiting. Do you remember the one with the Orleasian accent and elaborate mustache and his comrade with the sharp features and quick bow? Those two were only interested in the most talented fighters in our clan. Taran caught their eye, but Ayla threw such a fit that he didn’t go with them. Our best archer Shirra did leave with them, and we never heard from her again._

_This warden was conscripting people who could barely hold a shield. Then after one fight -against bandits not darkspawn- he released them to return to their homes. The wardens that visited Clan Lavellan made it very clear that it was a life-long commitment, and they were looking only for volunteers as the Blight had ended. My mind was completely made up to reject the warden’s offer when he suggested the Inquisition could use the ancient Grey Warden treaties for our own ends. I don’t like dishonesty even for noble reasons. I hope Cassandra gets past her anger soon. She’s blunted one blade already whacking at trees in her frustration._

_Sera is a talented archer, but she absolutely hates that she is an elf and by extension resents anything “elfy” that I do. Evidently, even the way I breathe can be too “elfy” at times. Solas and Sera antagonize each other endlessly. At first it was funny, but now I find it tiresome. I think if another mage ever joins our party I will avoid having the two of them travel together. I guess that’s what I get for turning down that enchanter’s offer. I still think that was a good call, though._

_We’re headed to Redcliffe village tomorrow to speak with the rebel mages. I hope they will help with the Breach. I just want to get that gaping monstrosity closed. Maybe if it is fixed the smaller rifts will self-repair, and I can get back to the clan and children quickly. I never would have agreed to Deshanna’s plan to infiltrate the Conclave had I known what would happen to me. I hope the children understand why I can’t leave yet._

_Not a day passes that I don’t miss you._

_Ar lath ma,_  
_Nehn_

Nehn dried the ink on the paper and placed the letter into her pack. Just as she stood up, a ram with a magnificently lustrous coat drew near to her. “Wow, you’re really spectacular looking,” Nehn commented. She nearly fainted when the ram thanked her for noticing. Knowing she hadn’t ingested any hallucinogenics, Nehn surmised that the ram was possessed. Edging away from the creature, she returned to camp to gather assistance.

“A ram just talked to me,” she said bluntly. “I think we might need to look into that.”

“Freakin’ nutters is what you are,” Sera commented.

“Perhaps not. Do you think it’s possessed?” Solas inquired.

“Not helping talking about demons and shite...” Sera interrupted.

“I can’t think of any other reason one would speak,” Nehn replied ignoring Sera’s complaint.

Cassandra had stopped hacking at trees long enough to listen to the conversation and then weigh in. “I have heard of instances of animal possession. We should kill this demon before it attempts inhabiting a person.”

“Didn’t sign on for killing flippin’ possessed livestock. I just want things to be nice and normal,” Sera said and then continued to spew expletives like a rift releasing demons.

“Then stay here, Sera,” Nehn said crossly.

“Piss on that. You’re not leaving me by myself with demon sheep running around.” Sera snarled as she checked her bowstring.

Nehn could feel a migraine forming as the vision in her right eye blurred. Soon the stabbing pain would start just over her tear duct and every loud noise would be like a canon exploding in her head. Rubbing her forehead, she said, “Let’s just deal with this quickly.”

The ram was in fact possessed and turned into a rage demon when Nehn’s first spell touched it. Nehn hated rage demons. She preferred to work with fire spells, and they were utterly ineffective against the flaming monster. Switching to casting the only electrical attack she knew, Nehn reminded herself to ask Solas to teach her some others. 

Shortly after the rage demon fell, Nehn’s migraine arrived with blinding severity. Grabbing her head, she stumbled back to camp, drank a healing potion, and laid down hoping that her companions would stop fighting with each other long enough for her to fall asleep. Trying to cover her ears to block out the racket, Nehn attempted to conjure a healing aura. The pain was too much, and she was too annoyed to cast effectively. Tossing her covers aside, she tore out of her tent and yelled, “Stop this inane arguing now. My children bicker less than you.”

The camp fell silent, and Nehn realized that she had slipped by mentioning her family. Ignoring her companions’ stares, she returned to her tent and emphatically closed the flap.

“Did you know she is a mother?” Cassandra whispered to Varric.

“No, I knew she had a guy back home, but I stopped trying to get her to talk about him awhile ago. She just gets teary or leaves if I bring him up. I guess they have kids together. Shit. That’s got to be hard.” Varric responded.

“She’s not that old - is she? I mean to be a mom and stuff. Shouldn’t she be like older and flabbier?” Sera asked.

“The Dalish tend to choose bond mates young,” Solas commented.

“Oh yeah, bumping uglies to rebuild the kingdom one elfy kid at a time,” Sera said with disgust.

“Don’t be so infantile, Sera,” Solas snapped.

“Fucking for elven glory!” Sera screamed at the top of her lungs. 

Nehn reappeared from her tent with her face flushed and tear stained. She was furious with herself for revealing she had children and was livid that Sera would make light of what she most treasured.

“I don’t care what you say about me, Sera, but you will leave my children out of your petty insults. As for the rest of you, my family is not a topic for speculation or discussion. Understood?”

“Sure, Sassy, we didn’t mean to upset you more. How many kids do you have anyway?” Varric asked.

“Not...for... discussion,” Nehn hissed and then returned to her tent.

“And here I thought you couldn’t get most mothers to shut up about their kids,” Varric mumbled under his breath.

****************************  
\--9 years earlier south of Starkhaven in the Free Marches--

Nehn was sneezing and sorting herbs for Deshanna task made more difficult by her belly limiting her effective reach across the table. She was seven months along and was entering the stage of pregnancy when walking became waddling. Her morning sickness had dwindled months ago replaced by euphoria and an insatiable sex drive. Unfortunately, her increasing discomfort as the baby began to press its feet under her ribs and push against her backbone had stolen those wonderful feelings. Now she was just sore, tired, and grumpy. She felt certain that any woman that claimed to enjoy being pregnant was lying or insane.

Garel walked by and stopped to kiss Nehn’s cheek. How he still found her attractive was a mystery to Nehn. She felt enormous and awkward. Her face had taken on a brownish tint that Deshanna euphemistically called motherhood’s mask, and her breasts had swollen to the point that she could no longer easily bind them with a breast band. She instead had to use a contraption favored by the older ladies in the clan that held her breasts in fabric cups. Just when she started to mentally berate herself for not taking better precautions against conception, the baby would wiggle or kick. Then Nehn would find herself absorbed in patting and talking to the creature that was stealing her beauty bit by bit. 

Sylvia and Falon were demonstrating ever increasing amounts of sibling rivalry as four and a half year old Falon refused to do his older sister’s bidding. He had instead taken to stealing her dolls and using them for target practice. Fortunately, his tiny bow shot blunted arrows, so the dolls were unharmed. Sylvia still took great offense nonetheless, and Nehn found herself refereeing another one of their arguments.

“Mythal’s mercy!” Nehn exclaimed in frustration, “Falon, leave your sister’s things alone. And Sylvia, your brother wouldn’t be able to take your dolls so easily if you didn’t leave them out all over the aravel. Both of you need to be kind to each other. I’d better not hear another cross word spoken between the two of you tonight. Understood?”

“Yes, Mamae,” they replied in unison before running out of Nehn’s earshot to exchange insults at each other.

Garel came over a little while later wearing a bemused grin and sat beside Nehn, “Did you know our son is halla poop? And our precious daughter is a fart head?’

“I’m firmly convinced that whatever is going on between those two is Mythal’s revenge on me for how I aggravated my sister,” Nehn replied as she finished tying the last bundle of herbs. Rubbing her belly, Nehn said, “And we’re about to add another one to the mix. What were we thinking?”

Garel ran his hands up her back and nuzzled her neck. “I doubt we were doing much thinking at the time.”


	11. Chapter 11

Nehn got up before dawn and knelt by the campfire which had gone out. Saying a prayer to Sylaise, she lit the fire and began her meditations. After some time, a slight shuffling sound let her know she wasn’t alone. Opening her eyes, she saw Solas walking toward the fire. “I apologize for interrupting,” he said.

“I was struggling long before you drew near.”

“Trouble with your meditations?”

“The Vir Atish’an is difficult enough to follow when I am with my clan. Here with all the discord and destruction around me I can hardly visualize the way of peace.”

“So you not only bear Sylaise’s vallaslin, but you try to follow her philosophies or at least what the Dalish believe she taught,” Solas commented.

Nehn closed her eyes and sighed, “I’m sure I’ll regret asking this, but I assume you’ve encountered something contradictory to our legends about Sylaise during your walks in the Fade. What is the truth about her?”

Solas smiled but then avoided answering her question. “Truth is an interesting idea. Truth varies with the observer. I have watched memories of those that fought at Ostagar. In some, Loghain is a power-hungry villain who abandoned his King on the field of battle. In others, he is a veteran warrior that saved the remaining Ferelden troops from annihilation by calling the retreat. Which is true? Both, either, neither?”

Nehn put her head in her hands and groaned, “It’s far too early to be so philosophical and evasive.”

“Ah, but I’m always philosophical and evasive,” Solas said with a look of gleeful satisfaction.

_And smug. You’re always smug._ Nehn thought but managed to keep to herself.

“What are you two talking about?” Varric asked as he crawled from his tent with bleary eyes.

“The relative nature of truth,” Nehn replied.

Varric waved his hand dismissively, “Elves think too much. Truth is what you see before you. This world - the rocks, trees, mosquitoes,” he said while slapping at a bug, “that is what is real.”

“Spoken like a true child of the Stone,” Solas commented.

“It’s too early for this shit, anyway. Hey, Sassy, are we okay after last night?” Varric questioned.

Nehn flopped onto her back dramatically and stared at the sky. “Can we just pretend I never mentioned them?”

“Mentioned who, Sass?” Varric asked.

“You’re officially my new best friend, Varric. Ayla will be pissed. She’s pretty handy with daggers, so you’d better watch yourself if you ever go around Clan Lavellan.”

“While I’m willing to ignore your admission, I would recommend you share why you withheld the information in the first place,” Solas advised.

“Isn’t it obvious? To protect my family. I don’t want them used as pawns.” Nehn rejoined.

“What you said doesn’t have to leave this camp,” Varric offered.

“Do you really believe Sera would keep something like that to herself?” Nehn argued.

“Something like what, your gracious lady bits?” Sera asked while plopping down beside Nehn.

“That I have children.”

“Pffttt... old news. Boring. Why would I tell anyone about your little elflings? Let them run around chasing halla. They don’t need to be pulled into this shite,” Sera stated.

“So I guess Cassandra is the only one left to convince, if she hasn’t already sent a raven to Leliana that is,” Nehn said.

“I have not.” Cassandra said flatly as she left her tent. “Your children have nothing to do with the Inquisition. However, I am curious as a friend to know more about them.”

Nehn was stunned that Cassandra considered her a friend, but she guessed they were friends of sorts. It was odd thinking of a human that way. “I have three children, two girls and a boy. Sylvia is eighteen. My son, Falon, is nearly fourteen, and Asha is nine.” 

“Sassy, I know Dalish elves marry young, but how do you have an eighteen year old kid?” Varric inquired.

“Sylvia and Falon are ‘len vhenan’ - children born of my heart not my body. Humans would call them ‘adopted.’ Asha is the only child I carried beneath my heart.” 

“Do they all have the same father?” Cassandra asked.

“Yes, my husband Garel.” Nehn answered.

“The letter guy?” Varric quizzed.

Nehn nodded and then said, “We should eat and head to Redcliffe. I’m curious to hear what Grand Enchanter Fiona has to say.”

************************  
After meeting with Grand Enchanter Fiona, Nehn was livid. The supposed leader of the rebel mages had indentured them to a Tevinter magister in exchange for protection from a perceived templar threat. “What type of imbecile would ally with Tevinter? She’s an elf. Tevinter enslaves elves. They destroyed Elvehnan.” Nehn said to no one in particular as they left Redcliffe’s tavern. Her meeting in the tavern with the Tevinter magister Alexius had been cut short by his son Felix feigning illness and passing a surreptitious note of warning to Nehn.

The note Nehn had received asked them to meet an informer at the Redcliffe Chantry. Nehn recognized it might be a trap, but she had to follow up on the lead. On the way to the Chantry, Nehn recognized the young elf that had greeted them when they first entered Redcliffe village. He served as an assistant to Fiona. Nehn felt obligated to tell him that she was concerned for his safety. No elf should willingly go with a Tevinter.

Upon entering the Chantry, Nehn and her companions were immediately engaged in fighting demons. A rift had spawned in the middle of the Chantry and like the other rift outside the city gates that they had closed earlier that day time was bending abnormally around it. Very dangerous magic was at work in Redcliffe.

Nehn’s contact was in the Chantry and fought the demons as well. _A Tevinter_ Nehn thought with irritation upon noticing his style of dress and manner of speech. The handsome young mage was a flamboyant peacock with oil slicked hair and a carefully groomed mustache. Nehn didn’t care for him on principal alone. Still she decided to listen to what he had to say.

The Tevinter was named Dorian and as he spoke he was both articulate and condescending. _I already have to deal with Solas’ superiority complex. Now this..._ Nehn thought as the Tevinter rambled about time magic that he claimed to have helped develop.

As Dorian spoke, the magister’s son Felix came into the Chantry looking wan. Although he had faked a fainting spell earlier, Nehn could tell he was truly quite ill. Felix joined the conversation and disclosed that his father had joined the Venatori, a Tevinter supremacist cult _Are there any good Tevinter cults? Fenedhis, are there any good Tevinters?_ Nehn pondered. 

Felix said that the cult was obsessed with Nehn and had sought out the rebel mages as a way of drawing her attention. He couldn’t offer an explanation for their fascination beyond her survival at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Dorian conjectured that her ability to close rifts might have drawn their attention. Felix said solemnly, “If the Venatori are behind those rifts, or the breach in the sky, they’re even worse than I thought.”

Dorian and Felix seemed sincere to Nehn, but she couldn’t understand their willingness to betray Alexius. He was Dorian’s mentor, and Felix’s father. Nehn pressed Felix on why he would turn on his father. His answer was disarming in its honesty. “I love my father, and I love my country. But this? Cults? Time magic? What he is doing is madness. For his own sake, you have to stop him,” Felix explained with conviction. 

Dorian added cynically, “It would also be nice if he didn’t rip a hole in time. There’s already a hole in the sky.” 

Despite her previous reservations, Nehn found herself not only trusting but liking the two young Tevinters. Felix had a very pure aura. Nehn could tell he was conscientious and moral. Dorian’s cockiness made him a more difficult read, but Nehn felt he was trying to do right as well. She found herself agreeing to include Dorian in whatever plans she made for Alexius. Dorian said that he would be leaving Redcliffe to avoid Alexius’ notice but that he would keep in touch with the Inquisition. Nehn encouraged him to go with them to Haven, so he could tell her advisors what he knew.

**************************  
Upon returning to Haven, Nehn called the war council together. Her three advisors were concerned about what she had learned in Redcliffe, but as usual they all differed on the best course of action to take. Nehn finally hushed them and asked Leliana to gather more information before they made any hard and fast decisions. 

“I met a young warrior outside the Chantry. He’s part of a mercenary group called Bull’s Chargers. I’d like to observe them and possibly enlist their assistance. While Leliana researches Alexius and the Venatori, I can make a quick excursion to the Storm Coast to see them in action. I’ve sent a raven to Scout Harding to get to the area and establish a forward camp,” Nehn commented.

“It seems less like you aren’t asking our permission but rather informing us of a choice you’ve already made. May I ask why you feel the need to enlist mercenaries when we have an army of our own?” Cullen questioned.

“We have an army, but few of its members are well trained. Most are raw recruits and people that have never seen battle. You’re doing a fine job of getting them ready, Commander, but I would like to have a small force that can react quickly. Also I need to find another warrior to travel with me,” Nehn explained.

Cassandra made a disgusted grunt, “Now you admit you need another warrior. You just turned down the help of an exceptional swordsman - a Grey Warden no less.”

“Why did you turn Blackwall aside? I’ve read your report and share your disappointment that he knew little of the wardens activities, but I’m confused why you didn’t take his aid,” Leliana added.

“Something about him felt off. I don’t want people around that make me uneasy,” Nehn responded.

“And yet you bring a Tevinter magister back to Haven with you?” Cullen snarled.

“He isn’t technically a magister, but that is beside the point. I trust him,” Nehn said.

“Oh, never mind the Commander,” Leliana enjoined, “He’s just jealous that there’s another pretty face about Haven stealing his attention.”

Cullen cleared his throat in annoyance. “I am not jealous - certainly not of that unctuous mage.”

“See how his face gets a little red and that vein pops on his neck. He’s jealous - and I know why. The pretty Tevinter might steal the attention of the girl you have your eye on...” Leliana teased.

Cullen turned a deeper shade of red and grabbed the back of his neck.

“You have a crush? Who is she? I could put in a good word for you, Commander,” Nehn said helpfully. “I can be quite persuasive.”

Josephine shared a knowing look with Leliana and then said, “Oh, I think the Commander is well aware of your many abilities, Herald.”

Nehn struggled to make eye contact with Cullen and said, “I really would help if you’d like.”

“That’s kind of you to offer ... but it is not necessary,” Cullen stammered in reply.

“I never get to play matchmaker. Our Keeper always gets the honor. If you change your mind...”

“You’d be the first to know,” Cullen said with a slight smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support, comments, and kudos. I'm excited that the story will soon be over 800 hits.


	12. Chapter 12

_Moist, mildew covered misery_ Nehn kvetched in her mind. _I should have known someplace called the ‘Storm Coast’ would have bad weather. Why can’t we ever go someplace with good weather and no aggressive wildlife?_

“You look particularly drenched and annoyed, Sassy. Not enjoying our little excursion to Ferelden’s northern shores?” Varric teased.

“I hate this place. I hate rain. I hate being cold. I hate being moist. I hate the word ‘moist.’ It sounds disgusting.” Nehn groused.

“Can’t you just magic up a barrier or heat yourself up?” Varric asked.

“I could if I didn’t have to conserve my mana to fight with random Andrastian cultists and darkspawn.”

“Hey, those random cultists answer to you now. You have your very own cadre of cultists, and you’re still grumpy,” Varric prodded.

Nehn growled and sent a small electrical shock toward Varric’s rear.

“Hey now! That hurt,” Varric said while rubbing his rear and chuckling.

“I just want to meet this Iron Bull person and get back to Haven,” Nehn commented.

“There,” Cassandra pointed, “I see a skirmish. That has to be the mercenary company we’re trying to find.”

“You’re right. I recognize one of the warriors. So what is the etiquette here? Do we watch or join the fight?” Nehn asked. “I’ve never vetted a mercenary company before.”

“The faster the fighting ends the sooner we can go somewhere warmer. I think we should engage,” Dorian offered.

“Sounds good to me,” Nehn said while pulling her staff free and giving it a twirl before sending lightning arcing between the Charger’s enemies.

“You’ve become quite proficient with that spell,” Solas said while throwing a ball of flames at an approaching warrior.

“I had a good teacher. Thank you, hahren,” Nehn said as she followed his attack by freezing the warrior mid-step. Cassandra ran forward and slashed at the ice encrusted man shattering him into several smaller pieces.

With Nehn and her party’s assistance, the Chargers soon ended the battle. An enormous, one-eyed, gray-skinned Qunari with large horns flanking his head called out in a booming voice, “Chargers stand down!” After the young soldier that Nehn met in Haven had reported in and received orders, Nehn walked over to the giant Qunari. Before trying to speak, Nehn opted to crawl on top of a boulder to keep from having to twist her neck to meet the giant warrior’s good eye.

“So you’re with the Inquisition, huh? Glad you can make it. Have a seat. Drinks are coming,” the Qunari said to Nehn.

“Iron Bull, I presume?” Nehn said while hopping down from the rock and following the Qunari. He sat down and rested an arm on his knee. Nehn decided to remain standing because she would feel too small sitting next to the giant. _Creators, he’s huge._ was her only thought as she guessed his biceps were at least as large as her waist.

After teasing his Lieutenant Krem, pitching the Chargers, and offering his services as a personal body guard, the Iron Bull examined Nehn critically. After a moment’s thought, he said, “There’s one other thing. Might be useful. Might piss you off.” That comment piqued Nehn’s curiosity as she studied him carefully.

“Ever hear of the Ben-Hassrath?” he asked, and Nehn shook her head no. Bull continued, “Its a Qunari order. They’re spies basically. Or well, _we’re_ spies.” Nehn was impressed with his admission. He was demonstrating a great deal of trust and honesty for someone that deceived as an occupation. When he explained that the Ben-Hassrath were concerned about the Breach and its magic and wanted to assist the Inquisition, Nehn agreed to hire the Chargers on the condition that Bull run all of his reports past Leliana first. 

Bull ordered his men to head toward Haven and offered to join Nehn’s traveling party personally. Nehn readily agreed. She knew his religion, the Qun, was spread primarily by the sword, so she was eager to learn more about the man if only to assuage her own lingering fears about his organization’s long term intentions. 

The journey from the Storm Coast took nearly a week and went primarily through farmlands. Seeing little besides crops, cows, and sheep grew dull, so Varric and Iron Bull suggested they play games on the road. Iron Bull initially suggested a drinking game based off truth or dare, but Nehn quickly nixed the idea. She weighed considerably less than any of the others and had a poor tolerance for alcohol. The last thing she needed was to be sloppy drunk and falling off her horse.

Dorian suggested that instead of taking shots rather than tell truths that they could keep score with the loser paying for drinks back at Haven. Everyone liked the idea except Varric.

“Nehn, how much money do you have on you?” Varric quizzed.

“20 coppers - why?” she answered.

“I knew it. Sassy never has any money. Whatever she gets she either spends upgrading our gear or gives it away.” Varric pointed out.

“I don’t need money. I won’t lose,” Nehn bragged.

“Oh, you’re on then. Just don’t come begging for me to pick up the tab,” Varric warned.

Solas chimed in, “You can count me out of this game. I’ve no interest in such foolishness.”

“Aw, hahren, I was looking forward to learning more about you,” Nehn pouted.

Solas nearly reversed his earlier statement seeing Nehn’s playful pout but thought better of it. He had more secrets to keep than most, and Nehn was much slyer than he initially thought.

“Cassandra, are you playing?” Nehn asked.

“Of course not.” Cassandra said disdainfully.

“You and Solas are spoil sports. I should make you ride further away so you won’t hear our answers,” Nehn said.

“Oh for the love of... fine, I’ll play. Satisfied?” Cassandra harrumphed.

“Very much so,” Nehn chirped. “Cassandra gets the first question.”

“Shit, I’ve already been interrogated by the Seeker. I should get a pass,” Varric argued.

“You assume that I want to know more about you, dwarf,” Cassandra seethed. “Alright, I have a question for the Iron Bull. Why did you disclose your Ben-Hassrath ties?”

“The Inquisition has its own spy network. I would have been made at some point. Also I’m guessing the Boss wouldn’t have hired me if I hadn’t come clean. Is that right, Boss?” Iron Bull asked Nehn.

“Will that be your question, Bull?” Nehn asked.

“No, never mind. I’ve got one for Varric. What did you think Hawke should have done with that mage - the one that blew up the Chantry?”

“I don’t know. Blondie was no longer himself at that point. He was consumed by the spirit he called ‘Justice.’ I couldn’t have killed him, but I understand why Hawke did.” Varric said. “That was depressing. Let’s try for something lighter. Sassy, tell me the story of that box you play with when you’re thinking.”

“My husband gave it to me after our bonding ceremony,” Nehn answered.

“That isn’t the full story. Come on. It’s a long way back to Haven. Humor us,” Varric pressed.

“Dorian and Bull, can I trust that what I say won’t leave this company?” Nehn asked.

“So this will be some good stuff. I’ll keep it to myself, Boss.” Bull promised.

“As will I,” Dorian added.

“Very well. My marriage was arranged by our clan’s Keeper Deshanna. Garel’s wife had died a year earlier, and he came to Deshanna requesting she find a match. Although I felt no attraction to him, I consented to the match because I loved his little ones and had promised his wife to look after them.”

“He knew why I agreed to the marriage, so he made the box and gave it to me on our wedding night saying that we would make love if and when I could solve its puzzle. He said that he wanted me to come to him out of love or desire rather than duty. The box was his way of ceding control to me,”

Cassandra made an audible sigh and wistfully commented, “That’s so romantic.”

“You’re still holding out, Sassy. How long did you make the poor guy wait?”

“I didn’t touch the box for the first six months, but during that time I fell for him heart and soul. Then I was too scared to mess things up between us. Long story short, after the encouragement of a friend, a few frustrating weeks of trying to solve the box on my own, and the intervention of a mechanically inclined two year old, I got the box open and found this necklace inside,” Nehn said as she pulled the chain out from under her tunic.

“An eagle pendant? Does that have some elven significance?” Dorian questioned.

“It isn’t anything specific to elves. Garel said he made the charm because eagles are beautiful, intelligent, and mate for life,” Nehn said.

Cassandra sighed again and blinked away the proof of her misty eyes.

“So that’s my box story,” Nehn concluded.

“You left out the most important part,” Bull complained. “How was the sex?”

Nehn turned nearly purple with embarrassment then whispered, “Phenomenal.”

Bull threw his fist in the air triumphantly. “Now that’s a good story.”

"It’s my turn for a question," Nehn stated. “Varric, what’s the story behind naming your crossbow?” 

“I’ll have to accept a point against me. That’s a story I can’t share,” Varric said. “Do I still get to ask a question?”

“Sure. Someone has to or the game would end,” Bull explained.

“Then I’ll shoot a question back to Sassy. Why do you never mail the letters to you write to Garel?”

“Because they can’t be delivered,” Nehn answered simply although her demeanor changed markedly.

Varric missed the visual cues that he was upsetting Nehn and pressed, “Come on, Leliana always has a bead on your clan’s location. Her scouts could get the letters to him.”

Bull touched Varric’s shoulder and gestured toward Nehn who had become completely withdrawn. Then it dawned on Varric - the unsent letters, the tears when talking about her husband, the fact the guy had never shown up even though his wife had been gone for months...

“Sassy, I’m sorry. Shit... I didn’t mean to...” Varric began.

“It’s okay, Varric. He died two years ago. You had no way of knowing. I write the letters because it makes me feel like some part of him is still with me. It makes the loneliness bearable.” Nehn said while tears trailed down her cheeks.

Solas swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. He hated to see Nehn sad, and he was angry with himself for begrudging her happiness when she had talked about the box. “Ir abelas. Mala enasal,” he said quietly to Nehn.

Nehn smiled weakly and answered, “Ma suledin. Ma serannas, hahren.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven  
> Ir abelas. Mala enasal. "I'm sorry. May you find joy again." (loose translation)  
> Ma suledin. Ma serannas, hahren. "I will endure. Thank you, elder."
> 
> Sorry that this is such a sad chapter. There will still be occasional Garel/ pre-Inquisition flashbacks, but I needed to disclose why Nehn might eventually try to find happiness again. Garel's a tough act to follow, though.


	13. Chapter 13

The group rode in somber silence for some time after Nehn’s admission about Garel. Finally Nehn got tired of the awkward quiet that had settled on them. “I knew I should have brought Sera along with us. She’d have started making fart noises or lewd jokes by now. Cassandra, this seems like a good time for you to tell me the story of how you saved the previous Divine’s life.”

“Ugh... I did not do it on my own. Whatever you heard has been grossly exaggerated,” Cassandra said with annoyance.

“All the better for you to set the record straight, Seeker,” Varric chimed in.

“Fine. When I was a young Seeker, I uncovered a plot against the Chantry’s leadership. Some templars, a grand cleric, and blood mages were working together to see Divine Beatrix killed along with most of the other Grand Clerics. With the help of some mages, I saw that they failed. End of story,” Cassandra said unenthusiastically.

“You left out the dragons, Cassandra,” Nehn teased.

“Yes, there were dragons. Four of them. They died. Satisfied?” Cassandra snarled.

“Wait, you killed four dragons, Cassandra? That’s so hot!” Iron Bull enthused.

“I did not do it alone, and dragon slaying is something of a Pentaghast tradition,” Cassandra explained.

“A whole family of dragon slayers? Mmmm....” Bull said with orgasmic reverence.

“No, most of the Pentaghasts are fat, lazy, and too obsessed with their pedigrees to do any real good,” Cassandra hissed.

Bull sighed, “Knew it was too good to be true. Still four dragons? Wow.”

“It was twenty years ago. I will not rest on my laurels,” Cassandra said emphatically.

“They are really nice laurels from what I see...” Bull flirted.

“There is no way, Bull,” Cassandra cautioned.

“Uh, sorry, Cassandra, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll stop with the advances,” Bull said chastened.

“I didn’t say that you needed to stop only that you need to realize there is no way it’s happening...ever,” Cassandra deadpanned.

“Well, if you ever find that you have an itch you need scratched...” Bull offered.

“I’ll make sure to get some lotion for it. You don’t have a chance, Bull,” Cassandra replied.

Bull growled in frustration as Solas redirected their banter. “Seeker, you said that mages assisted you. You became Right Hand of the Divine as a result of your actions. What became of them?”

“They were thanked for their assistance and returned to their Circles,” Cassandra stated.

“So, in truth, they were patted on the head and returned to their cages like mabari after a battle,” Solas said disdainfully.

“Circles exist to keep mages safe, and people safe from mages. I will not apologize for their existence only their abuses,” Cassandra replied.

“Ah, yes... safe. Safe from the masses that are taught to fear them. Safe from freedom. I suppose the Circle mages should be grateful to be only imprisoned rather than chained and gagged as the Qunari saarebas,” Solas argued.

Nehn couldn’t believe the downward spiral that the conversation had taken. She needed these people to work together not be at each other’s throats. “This decade has already seen one mage/templar war. Can we please not start another?” she pleaded.

“As long as attitudes like the Seeker’s exist, there will be no end to the war only periods of uneasy peace between battles,” Solas responded.

“Halam sahlin,” Nehn said forcefully.

“Ma nuvenin, _Herald_ ,” Solas said with feigned obeisance.

“You realize the rest of us have no idea what you’re saying,” Varric commented.

“It matters not. The _Herald_ has made herself clear. I meant only to remind you of the inevitable, da’len,” Solas replied.

“Banal nadas, hahren,” Nehn said emphatically.

“Translation? For those of us that don’t speak elven.” Varric pressed.

“Nehn only reminded me that nothing is inevitable. A wise if perhaps overly optimistic thought,” Solas explained.

“Sassy, you could have just said that in the Common Tongue, “ Varric admonished at which point Nehn released a string of expletives in elven that made shock cross Solas’ typically impassive face.

“I see that Dalish have done well in preserving curses at least,” Solas commented dryly. 

“Hahren Solas admits the Dalish have done something right. I should do something to mark this occasion,” Nehn said sarcastically.

“You could always plant a tree. The Dalish are found of that,” Solas snapped back.

Bull observed the interplay between Solas and Nehn with interest. Their relationship had a very odd dynamic. The Boss wanted something from the older elf - approval? acceptance?- that he was unwilling to give. As for Solas, Bull was sure of only one thing - the elven mage was undeniably attracted to the woman and hated himself for it. Solas was too much of a secretive prick for someone as upfront and tender-hearted as Nehn. Bull hoped she recognized that before the older elf leveraged her desire to please into something more.

Glancing over at Varric, Bull noticed that the dwarf was glaring at Solas. _He doesn’t like baldy either. Good._

*******************  
When the group returned to Haven, Nehn immediately scrambled into the woods. The ride back from the Storm Coast had been contentious, and Nehn for all her straightforwardness abhorred conflict. She needed some time alone to recharge and reflect before she had to face her advisors. She especially wanted to work through her warring emotions regarding the rebel mages in Redcliffe.

Finding a sturdy pine to use as a windbreak, Nehn cleared a patch of ground of snow and sat down crossing her legs. With quiet intensity, she began her meditations on the Vir Atish’an - the path to peace advocated by Sylaise. _Or at least what I think Sylaise advocated. Not like that arrogant egghead Solas would actually tell me what he knows_ Nehn thought bitterly. Few were called to walk the path - that of healer, nurturer, peacemaker. Nehn had never doubted her calling until the events of the past few months. How could she seek peace with such bloody hands? 

As she was trying to redirect her thoughts back to Sylaise’s words, Nehn sensed Solas’ aura before she heard him approaching. _He’s no doubt coming to parcel out another helping of condescension. Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll just keep walking._ His steps became louder and then stopped. She kept her eyes tightly closed hoping that the mage would catch the hint that she was uninterested in conversation. Instead she heard him clearing some snow beside her and then sitting down. _Well, shit..._ she thought adopting one of Varric’s favored curses as her own.

“What do you want, Solas?” she asked without opening her eyes.

“A detente,” he answered, “Our petty arguing does little to help the cause of the Inquisition.”

Nehn bit her lip. He knew she followed the Vir Atish’an and that it required that she accept apologies or overtures of peace in almost all circumstances. The smug elf had her. _Sylaise, help me accept his offer with grace_ she prayed. She had accepted Cullen’s apology easily. Why was it so much more difficult to disengage from the elven apostate? _Because he isn’t apologizing... he’s just manipulating_ she thought.

“You know I can’t turn that offer aside,” she replied pointedly.

“You always have a choice, but I am aware that your beliefs make you think otherwise.”

_Evasive, arrogant, manipulative ass_ she listed his worst qualities in her mind before offering a forced smile. “I’m happy to accept anything that leads to less conflict,” she replied.

“That would be a mistake. Conflict is at times healthy. You shouldn’t run from it just because it makes you uncomfortable,” Solas admonished.

“I thought you wanted a ceasefire,” Nehn said with aggravation.

“I do. But only for the right reasons. By the way, I was speaking less about our disagreements, and more about your avoiding the Inquisition’s advisors. That is what you’re doing out here - is it not?”

_Add annoyingly observant to the list._ “I needed time to sort through my feelings before I spoke with them. The conversations in the war room are often heated. It helps to know my own mind before I hear the thoughts of others - especially when they are being shouted at me.”

Solas wrapped his arms around his legs and regarded Nehn. “I again misjudged you. I thought you were hiding in fear, but instead I see you were seeking clarity.”

“You seem to do a lot of that - judging me. I don’t like it,” she admitted.

“It’s rare that I can’t predict people’s motivations or actions. You, however, are always replete with surprises,” he said with a soft smile.

“Lucky me,” Nehn said with little enthusiasm.

“If I may ask, what has you most concerned?” Solas inquired.

“You’ll probably deride me for being too Dalish...” Nehn hesitated.

“Try me.” 

“It bothers me that I’m putting all this effort into helping them - the rebel mages, the Inquisition. They aren’t my people. They aren’t the ones I should be protecting and nurturing. Every day I spend working with the Inquisition feels like a betrayal of who I am and what I believe in,” Nehn confessed before adding, “I’m sure you can’t understand that. Feel free to take swipes at my insular Dalish nature. I won’t count it as violating our detente.”

Solas considered her words for some time before speaking, “I understand better than you might think. Tell me, though, how could you better be helping your people? The Breach threatens us all. Don’t lose sight of that.”

“But what happens after the Breach is sealed? Do you think my clan will welcome me knowing that I allied with humans and allowed them to promote me as a herald of their false prophet?”

Solas looked troubled and answered, “Sometimes you are forced to make choices to protect people that may cause them to revile you. You make those hard decisions in their best interest and hope that one day they grow to understand why.”

“That wasn’t the answer I wanted. I was hoping for a, ‘Nehn, you worry too much. It will all be fine.’ I would have also accepted, ‘Nehn, your clan will surely set aside centuries worth of animosities toward those who work with humans because you’re just too adorable to ostracize.’ Would you care to try answering again?”

Solas laughed briefly and then became somber, “Nehn, would you truly prefer a lie?”

She sighed. “No, but I wish it wouldn’t have to be a lie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvish  
> Halam sahlin - End this now.  
> Ma nuvenin. - As you wish.  
> Banal nadas - Nothing is certain.


	14. Chapter 14

Solas watched as Nehn went into her cabin to bathe and dress for a meeting with the war council. He was satisfied that he had earned her trust and saddened that he didn’t deserve it. She was undeniably a rare spirit, and he was toying with her. He needed her to see him as a friend and advisor. How else would he convince her to give him the orb once it was found?

He should have been exultant at the ease with which he manipulated Nehn. Yet Solas felt a heaviness in his chest when he thought of it. What was that feeling - regret, guilt, longing? Whatever it was, he had to keep focused on his plan, his priorities, his People. He could not allow her to become a distraction - not when so much was at stake, not when so much had already been irrevocably lost.

***************

Nehn loathed asking servants, who were invariably city elves, for help. She had lived her entire life getting her own water, preparing her own meals, mending her own clothes, and fixing her own hair. Now there were always nervous, groveling elven women waiting near her cabin offering to do things that Nehn felt more comfortable doing herself. Realizing there was little hope of drawing her own bath with the servants falling over themselves to assist her, Nehn asked the ladies to prepare her bath and lay out fresh clothing. She watched them work and tried to conceal her discomfort. _When did our people become so servile?_

Before getting undressed, Nehn thanked the servants and then asked them to leave. _Surely they don’t expect that I’d ask them to bathe me? How lazy are the humans they usually serve?_ She tested the temperature of the water with her hand and said a brief spell to warm it more before sinking into the water. She would have preferred to bathe in running water, but the frigid temperatures outdoors precluded that option. She scrubbed her body and washed her hair quickly, so that she wouldn’t catch a chill. Then she got out of the tub dried off and wrapped her hair which hung well past her shoulders into a towel.

After putting on her undergarments, Nehn sheathed herself in a quilt and sat down before the fire. Solas had interrupted her thoughts earlier, but she could concentrate now. Staring at the dancing flames, she pondered whether the rebel mages deserved to be rescued. If they offered themselves as slaves so easily, were they worth saving? Ignoring their plight would mean seeking out the templars for aid. Nehn was nonplussed with the idea of working with mage hunters. There seemed to be no good solution.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted her musings, and Nehn went to answer it after wrapping her blanket around her closely. Cracking the door open, she saw one of Commander Cullen’s honey brown eyes through the small slit she had made in the doorway. “Lady Lavellan, I had hoped to speak with you before the council session. Are you available?”

“Give me a minute to get dressed,” Nehn said and closed the door missing the string of red-faced apologies the Commander had begun. Nehn tossed on the fur trimmed velvet robes and woolen tights the servants had laid out for her. _Surprisingly comfortable_ Nehn thought having never worn that particular style of dress before. After toweling her hair dry and then using a quick warming spell to finish the job, Nehn opened the door and gestured for Cullen to come in.

“I’m sorry I interrupted. I thought I’d waited long enough after your return so as not to disturb your ablutions,” Cullen apologized again.

“It’s okay, Commander. I went for a walk to clear my head before I started to get ready. Do you need me at the council now?”

“No, I wanted to talk with you first before Leliana and the others shout me down.”

“I’m listening.”

Cullen took a deep breath and then launched into a speech he had clearly been rehearsing in his head, “Even with the threat posed by having a large group of mages under the direct control of a Tevinter magister so near us, I still believe the Inquisition would be better served by seeking out the aid of the Templar Order for sealing the Breach. I was a Templar. I know what they are capable of. They can contain the magic of the Breach - suppress it. Pouring more magic into the Breach might cause a cataclysm. Also there is the matter of Redcliffe Castle’s impenetrability. I will not allow you to put yourself at risk knowing that my men would have no way of backing you up.”

Cullen looked surprised when he finished his statement. He expected to be cut off long before he concluded. Now he stood awkwardly staring at Nehn who seemed to actually be weighing his words. Nehn motioned for him to sit by the fire as she gathered her brush and hair pins. There were two seats near the fire - a typical arm chair and a small stool. Cullen debated where to sit and chose the stool leaving the nicer seating for Nehn.

When Nehn turned around from getting things to fix her hair, she started laughing. “Commander, you look ridiculous perched on that footstool. Please sit in the chair.” Cullen nodded and obligingly moved to the chair. Nehn walked over and sat on the stool. Its small size complimented her petite frame. Putting the hair pins in her lap, Nehn began to brush her hair and talk to Cullen.

“I will admit I’m reluctant to help the mages for my own reasons. I question how useful they would be to us if they are so easily intimidated into subservience. I also dislike people that kowtow - particularly to Tevinter.”

“On the other hand, I am an apostate mage. A year ago, you or any other templar would have gladly jailed me in a Circle had I ventured close enough to be caught. Surely you can see how that makes me reluctant to approach a fortress filled with people that see me as an inherent threat. I also question how long those men and women would stay loyal to the Inquisition given that they abandoned their vows the Chantry.”

Nehn had finished brushing her hair and was putting it into a fishtail braid when she stopped talking. Cullen didn’t speak at first. He was unsure if Nehn had finished, and he was entranced watching her weave her auburn hair which glowed red in the firelight. Finally, he spoke, “The Chantry took templars for granted. Templars risk their lives against blood magic, demons, abominations - and many feel as if those efforts were dismissed. I think they could prove loyal if shown appreciation for their sacrifice. The Inquisition could do that.”

Nehn raised an eyebrow, “What sacrifice do they make beyond that of an ordinary soldier? Aren’t all warriors expected to face peril and death?”

“Lyrium grants templars our abilities, but it controls us as well. Those cut off suffer - some go mad, others die.” Cullen explained.

“And they don’t tell you this when you join?” Nehn asked.

Cullen shook his head. “The Chantry uses lyrium as a leash binding its templars to service.”

“And you would rather the Inquisition become their slaver?” Nehn said with revulsion.

“It could, perhaps, be a kinder master,” Cullen said quietly. “At the very least, we could make recruits fully aware of the enormity of the decision to become a templar.”

Nehn pursed her lips. “You’ve given me a good deal to mull over, Commander. I think we should head to the war room now, so I can hear the others’ opinions.”

The debate in the war room was every bit as heated as Nehn expected. Leliana was adamant that the Inquisition aid the rebel mages. Cullen reiterated his support for the templars, and Cassandra and Josephine flip flopped their earlier opinions. While Cassandra had initially supported seeking the templars’ aid, she felt the situation in Redcliffe was too unstable to go unaddressed. Josephine, who had once agreed with Leliana on approaching the mages, was reluctant to engage what amounted to a hostile army on foreign soil. An attack on Redcliffe by the Inquisition could be seen as an act of aggression by Ferelden’s King.

In the end, Nehn was left as the deciding vote. No matter how kind of a master she might be, Nehn couldn’t stomach the thought of holding the templars’ lyrium leash. She also knew that without that method of control the mage hunters would never be fully loyal. With an apologetic look at Cullen, she announced they would pursue the rebel mages with Dorian’s assistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm excited that this story is over 1000 hits now. In celebration, I decided to post this installment tonight when I finished it rather than waiting until tomorrow.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Nehn was sitting between Varric and Cassandra at a table in Redcliffe’s tavern. She refused to let either leave her sight and kept alternatively hugging them and exclaiming how happy she was they were alive. Iron Bull, who was sitting across the table from them, casually tipped Nehn’s mug of ale to see how much she had drank. It was still nearly full, so her emotional display wasn’t from drunkenness. Solas regarded Nehn with curiosity and wondered when she would explain what she had experienced at Redcliffe Castle. Sera commented that she was glad that Nehn was acting like people - even if she was acting like _weird_ people.

Dorian sauntered back to the table after ordering some food and asked Nehn if she wanted to tell the story or if he should. Nehn smiled widely and then said, “Just a second. There’s one more thing I have to do,” before rubbing her hand along Varric’s chest hair and giggling like a school girl. “It’s softer than I imagined.”

“You’ll have to pardon, Nehn. She obviously deals with stress differently than most people,” Dorian offered. 

“I’m not stressed. I’m thrilled! They were dead. The future was awful, and it hasn’t happened! How could I not be happy?” she said while wrapping her arms around Cassandra and Varric and giving them a squeeze.

“Look, Sassy, I’m enjoying the attention, but perhaps you could explain what went on when you disappeared into that gaping green hole.” Varric drawled.

“I saw an alternate future. It was horrific. Demons and red lyrium were everywhere. Empress Celene had been assassinated, and a demon army had conquered Thedas while the Elder One proclaimed himself a god. You, Cassandra, and Leliana died protecting Dorian’s and my escape, but we made it back. None of it happened. We’re here, and we can make sure it won’t happen,” she said while raising her glass in jubilation.

Dorian chimed in, “You would have been proud to see her. She was defiant and tough. Fiona claimed that the Elder One had more power than the Maker, and little Nehn here said, ‘It’s a good thing I don’t believe in the Maker then. Now if you told me he was more cunning than’ ... Oh, hang it all... What god did you mention, Nehn?”

“Fen’Harel,” Nehn said then took a small sip of ale.

“Ah, yes, our Nehn said, ‘Now if you told me he was more cunning than Fen’Harel I might be worried. As it is, I’ve never fought a god before, this should be interesting.’ Just like it was no great thing to take on a god,” Dorian gushed while Solas rubbed his forehead and looked away from the table.

“So you fought this Elder One?” Cassandra asked.

“No. And I guess we’ll still have to take on a demon army and protect Celene, but in equally important news, you’re not dead!” Nehn proclaimed.

“I’m thinking she’s happy we’re alive, Seeker,” Varric said with a bemused grin.

“Ecstatic, jubilant, and every other synonym. We can worry about the rest tomorrow. Tonight, I’m celebrating,” Nehn said cheerfully.

“Speaking of dealing with things... I am concerned that you offered a full alliance with the rebel mages. I do not trust them,” Cassandra stated.

“We need them to help with the Breach, and people are more loyal to their liberators than their captors,” Nehn explained.

“Curly is going to have a shit fit when he hears about this,” Varric warned.

“Not my problem. I’m happy being alive and in 9:41 Dragon,” Nehn responded gleefully.

********************  
Varric’s prediction about Cullen’s reaction was accurate. The Commander had been seething mad since news arrived from Redcliffe of Nehn’s agreement with the rebel mages. “There’ll be abominations among them!” he railed to Josephine then added, “That many mages so close to the Breach will be a disaster.” Josephine took his anger in stride but cautioned that they couldn’t back away from Nehn’s promise without looking inept or heavy-handed. The Inquisition would have to accept her decision.

Leaving the Chantry without another word, Cullen angrily strode to where his soldiers trained. Upon seeing their Commander’s approach, his men scattered before him and tried to look absorbed in their work. Cullen growled for his templars to meet him near the lake in fifteen minutes. 

Stepping into his tent, Cullen pulled out the box that contained the equipment for preparing a philter of lyrium. Staring at it, he nearly forced himself to take a draught. He had been without lyrium since Cassandra had recruited him several months earlier. Withdrawals were difficult, but he was managing. Still with the influx of mages coming to Haven, could he put his own desire to break his addiction before the safety of the people around him?

_You are not a templar any longer,_ he told himself and put the box away. He could manage whatever issues arose with the mages without his templar abilities. The Hero of Ferelden and Hawke had dealt with scores of blood mages and abominations without dispelling magic or using holy smites. He could do the same if necessary.

Cullen still needed to alert the Inquisition’s templars about the mages’ arrival. Better they work through their emotions on the matter now before they had mages agitating and complaining around them. Cullen felt a headache forming when he thought of the hundreds of mages that were coming. He had served in two different Circles with two very different Knight Commanders, but there was one constant - mages loved to gripe, especially about templars. 

Nehn had seemed so reasonable when they spoke in her cabin. Her gorgeous blue green eyes had studied his face carefully while he talked. And the way she looked brushing her hair, the top few buttons of her robe undone in her rush to get dressed... _Maker, she was probably naked when she came to the door_ he realized and then scolded himself for allowing his mind to linger too long on the images that thought conjured. _You’re heading for trouble, Rutherford..._ he cautioned himself as he left his tent to speak with the templars.

The templars were understandably concerned, but Cullen did his best to assuage their fears even though he privately shared them. He might not agree with Nehn’s decision, but it would do his men no good to see him questioning her judgment or that of any of the other advisors. Regardless of the disagreements that presented themselves in the war room, Cullen, Leliana, Josephine, and Nehn put up a united front in public. Rumors of dissension could weaken their standing, and the Inquisition was too young and too controversial to accept any loss of influence.

By the time Nehn and her party returned from Redcliffe, Cullen had calmed down greatly although his temper flared when he saw her entering the Chantry with Cassandra at her side. “What were you thinking turning mages loose with no oversight? The Veil is torn open,” Cullen snapped at Nehn.

“I was thinking that we need their full cooperation to seal the Breach, Commander,” Nehn replied with a touch of anger in her voice.

“I know we need them for the Breach, but they could do as much damage as the demons themselves,” Cullen retorted.

“Enough arguing,” Cassandra interrupted sharply. “Nehn secured the aid of the mages which was the sole point of her mission. Closing the Breach is all that matters.”

Cassandra’s pragmatism calmed Cullen’s ire, and he invited Nehn to join the war council when it next convened. Nehn inwardly rolled her eyes at his invitation - like any of her advisors would let her sit out one of those torture sessions. Cullen excused himself to begin preparations for an assault on the Temple of Sacred Ashes. His men would need to keep Nehn and the mages guarded from any demons that might be drawn to their trying to mend the Breach.

***********************************  
Nehn grabbed Leliana before she could leave the Chantry and pulled the spymaster into a tight hug.

“What’s this?” Leliana asked with confusion.

“I’m celebrating that you’re alive. In Redcliffe, you sacrificed yourself so that I could return here,” Nehn explained.

“Of course I did. One small life for a second chance at history. I always loved a bargain,” Leliana answered while slipping from Nehn’s embrace.

Nehn couldn’t allow the spymaster to diminish her sacrifice. Their relationship had been tense since Nehn had questioned Leliana’s plan to have a suspected rogue agent assassinated. Nehn had convinced Leliana to instead apprehend and interrogate the spy. The man, Butler, was treasonous, but he exposed several other double agents during questioning. All of the conspirators were awaiting judgment in Haven’s dungeon while Leliana was making sure that there were no more traitors in her ranks.

“It was still a sacrifice and still noble,” Nehn emphasized.

“And I would do it again,” Leliana replied with a hint of a smile.

Leaving Leliana’s company, Nehn tried to expunge the memories of the future Leliana she had seen. That Leliana had been tortured and experimented on - her face disfigured by her captors. The future Leliana had also been cold enough to murder Alexius’ son in front of him. Nehn promised herself that she would work to temper Leliana’s more cutthroat tendencies. She couldn’t allow vengeance to consume the spymaster’s soul.

Nehn stopped by the apothecary’s cabin to pick up a healing salve. She had gotten into a patch of poison ivy while trying to gather elfroot and had developed an annoyingly itchy rash from the encounter. Upon seeing Adan, Nehn suppressed the urge to hug him and congratulate him on being alive. She figured that might be too much contact for the grumpy man to handle, so she contented herself with telling him that she was happy to see him while grinning ear to ear. Even that was too much warmth for Adan who nearly tripped over a chest while backing away from Nehn. Gathering her salve and rubbing it on her rash with a sigh, Nehn left the apothecary and was greeted by Solas.

“I thought we might go for a walk in the woods,” he offered.

Nehn’s eyes grew wide at his use of her clan’s euphemism for sex. Then she realized that not everyone knew that double meaning. Feeling her cheeks blaze red, she responded, “How about drinks at the tavern?” just in case he meant what she originally thought he did.

“That should work just as well,” Solas responded wondering why Nehn seemed embarrassed before dismissing her reaction. She was an odd person and annoyingly difficult to predict. Her sanguine response to having witnessed a doomed future was just another thing he had failed to anticipate. Her resilience, however, was admirable. 

“Just one thing,” Nehn cautioned, “you’re ordering. I avoid Flissa whenever possible.”

Solas chuckled. Varric and Sera had been slipping Flissa coin to keep up her advances long after she had determined that they were unwelcome. He had to admit it was a well-conceived prank that did little harm. Nehn was too polite and kind-hearted to say anything untoward to Flissa, and Flissa enjoyed being in on the joke as well as the extra coin it brought. Varric liked playing the hero running interference for Nehn and Sera thought it reminded Nehn she was just people. Solas considered telling Nehn about the gag but opted against it. He enjoyed watching her squirm, too.

Solas and Nehn discussed the alliance with the mages and then she thanked him for taking her mentions of magical time travels in stride unlike many people.

“I am not most people,” he commented.

_You certainly aren’t._ Nehn thought while she fought the urge to flirt. _He’s not even cute, Nehn. But he has such a gorgeous mind..._ Rather than chat, Nehn stared awkwardly at the tavern table. Someone, no doubt Sera, had carved her likeness with exaggerated assets and labeled the drawing “Her Gracious Ladybits.” Nehn covered the offending portrait with her mug and tried to concentrate on her conversation with Solas. _What had we been talking about? Oh right, weird magic._

“I appreciate that you’ll talk to me about the odd magic I’ve experienced,” she said.

Solas grinned, “Magical surprises I can handle.” Turning more somber, he added, “Speaking of which, you should prepare yourself. This Elder One, you have now interfered with his plans twice. Once at the Temple of Sacred Ashes and again at Redcliffe. A being that aspires to godhood is unlikely to ignore such an affront.”

“I refuse to worry about that,” Nehn said firmly.

“Isn’t it unwise to not prepare?” Solas questioned.

“Oh, I’ll prepare. I just won’t be consumed by worry. My husband pointed out years ago that trouble and sadness come without being bidden. Happiness and joy are things you have to seek out and embrace. I’m happy to be alive and have an opportunity to make things right. I won’t let fear of what might happen take that from me.”

“I thought you sought only _suledin_ ,” Solas commented using the elven word for stoically enduring hardship.

“I will accept _suledin_ , but I seek _enasal_ ,” Nehn answered admitting that she wanted more than to just endure. She wanted to triumph over her setbacks.

“You have an indomitable focus,” he commented, “An enjoyable side benefit to your training as a mage I assume.”

“Indomitable focus?” she asked 

“Presumably. I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine that sight would be... fascinating,” Solas said as he stared at Nehn in such a way that made her heart quicken. _Is he flirting with me?_ she wondered while a shy giggle trailed past her lips.

Feeling the need to steer the conversation to a different topic, Nehn asked Solas about the necklace he wore. “It’s odd to see an elf - even one that doesn’t ascribe to elven religion - wearing anything associated with wolves. What does the wolf’s jawbone mean?”

“Does it have to mean anything?” he answered.

“If you were another person, I might think not. Everything you do seems very calculated, however,” Nehn replied.

“I see.” Solas said and nothing more. Nehn raised an eyebrow waiting for a response. Finally, Solas relented, “Wolves are undeservedly given a bad reputation - particularly by the Dalish. They are intelligent, practical creatures that small-minded fools think of as terrible beasts.”

Nehn chose not to respond to his statement instead she merely thumbed the sylvanwood Keeper’s ring she wore on her right ring finger. The one given to her by Deshanna to remind her of her duty to guard her clan against the Dread Wolf. _Some wolves earned their bad reputation,_ she thought.


	16. Chapter 16

Varric flagged Nehn down to come speak to him as she passed by on the way to visit Harritt at his forge. “Sassy, come here for a minute.”

Nehn juggled the armor she was taking in for repairs and walked over to Varric. “What’s on your mind?” she asked while setting her load down on the ground.

“Look, I’m not complaining about the good mood you’ve been in, but it’s just odd to me. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. The easiest way I can explain it is that before I saw how bad things could be I felt torn between staying here and going home. Now I know I’m actually doing something necessary.” Nehn explained.

“So a giant demon-spewing hole in the sky wasn’t enough reason for you earlier?” Varric quizzed with incredulity.

“There will always be demons, Varric. Mages encounter them frequently in the Fade. In some ways, it’s easier here because their nature is revealed fully rather than being hidden by a guise. But whatever this is goes beyond demons and explosions. This Elder One wants to rule over everyone. As a Dalish, I have vowed never to submit to anyone. This is about protecting my people and our ideals. Seeing Cassandra and you willing to die for me, helped me realize that my people extend beyond just my clan. You’re the first non-elven friends I’ve ever had, and I treasure you both,” Nehn said while putting her hand on Varric’s cheek as she finished.

“Shit, Sassy, you’re going to make me tear up. Quick, say something grumpy.”

“Something grumpy,” Nehn replied with a wink which made Varric chuckle.

“How much will it cost me to have a member of the Dwarven merchant’s guild help me carry this load of armor to Harritt?” Nehn inquired.

“My services aren’t for sale, and you’re always broke. But I’d be happy to help a friend,” Varric answered with a grin.

Nehn had just finished gathering her portion of the armor when she went flying down the steps near where Varric had been standing. “What the...” she yelled as she scrambled to find her feet and threw up a barrier. Glancing around, she saw Commander Cullen at the top of the stairs clutching his neck and looking very guilty.

“Lady Lavellan, I apologize. I didn’t see you. You’re just so...” Cullen said as he rushed down the steps and tried to gather the armor Nehn had dropped.

“Don’t you dare say I’m too small to notice,” Nehn answered with irritation. “You just don’t pay enough attention. Were you always tripping over mages in the Circle?”

“No, I’m afraid you’re the only mage I run into with any regularity,” Cullen said with a small smile creeping across his face at Nehn’s indignation. 

“Careful, Curly, she’s been happy for the last several days. We don’t need you messing that up,” Varric warned.

Cullen looked at Nehn again. “I _am_ sorry. Are you injured?”

“Other than a bloodied elbow that’s easily healed, I’m fine. Just please stop trying to read and walk at the same time. It’s obviously too taxing for you,” Nehn chided.

“See now she’s grumpy,” Varric commented.

“If there is anything I can do to improve your mood, you’ve only to ask,” Cullen offered.

“Fantastic!” Nehn chirped, “Carry my armor to Harritt for me. Varric, I think the Commander is big enough to manage it all. And Cullen, do watch where you’re going.”

_She played you like a fiddle, Curly,_ Varric thought as he handed his share of Nehn’s armor over.

*************************  
Two weeks passed, and all the Redcliffe mages had arrived in Haven and settled in. Nehn was shocked to see how demanding they had been. It was obvious to her that they had lived pampered, sheltered lives from the demands they made. The Circles may have been prisons, but they certainly weren’t dungeons from what Nehn could tell. Cassandra had borne the brunt of complaints as Cullen had opted to direct as many of them as possible her way. _He’s smarter than he looks,_ Nehn observed.

Cassandra’s frustration with the mages spilled over onto Nehn, and she snapped at her friend when Nehn interrupted her sword practice. “Look at the trouble you’ve caused with this alliance,” Cassandra hissed.

“I was only trying my best, and no one else was willing to make the decision,” Nehn answered chastened.

“Oh, it does sound like I’m judging you. You did well. We have the help we need to deal with the Breach.” Cassandra said more gently.

“I didn’t realize the Circle mages would be quite so prissy,” Nehn admitted. “Mages among the Dalish are as much servants to their clans as leaders. We’d never think to demand comforts that others don’t have. In fact, when food is scarce we’re the first to go without.” 

“I don’t think you’ll see our mages willing to make similar sacrifices, but they will help with the Breach. And if they can learn to deal with being treated like everyone else, they may prove useful beyond that,” Cassandra added.

“So we’ll be heading up to the temple soon. Are you going to come with me?” Nehn asked.

“Of course, I will stay by your side if you wish,” Cassandra said.

“I’d like that, Cassandra. It’ll be nice to have someone looking out for me.”

“I would have to do a lot less of that if you developed more battlefield awareness, but for one trained primarily as a healer you do well. It surprises me that the Dalish don’t spend more time learning offensive spells,” Cassandra commented.

“There are only two or three mages in a clan. If we fought alongside our hunters, there would be no one to heal them. Still we all know some amount of combat magic.”

“So I’ve gathered, and you seem to be quickly picking up more from Solas and Dorian. By the time this conflict is over, you’ll be quite proficient assuming you learn to guard your flank.”

“I thought that is what I had you for...” Nehn cajoled.

“Ideally, I should be in front of you drawing attention away from you. Perhaps we could drill and spar with Cullen and a few of his men. You need to learn how to keep track of multiple combatants - particularly rogues.”

“Sounds like fun,” Nehn said glumly.

“Drills and sparring aren’t meant to be fun. They’re meant to keep you alive,” Cassandra said sternly.

Nehn slunk off and complained to Dorian about Cassandra’s plan to have her spar. “You’re looking at this entirely the wrong way, my dear,” he consoled. “You do realize that the soldiers almost always spar without their armor.”

“I don’t get your point,” Nehn answered.

“At times, I wonder how you conceived your youngest. Let’s try this again. You’ll be fighting in a small ring surrounded by glistening young soldiers with only thin linens hiding their rippling muscles.” Dorian said with an exasperated air.

A devious smile crept across Nehn’s lips. “I wonder if I could request they include some elven soldiers.”

“I’m sure that’s possible, my dear, but really why limit yourself?” Dorian asked.

“Humans and dwarves are just so... hairy. No offense.” 

“None taken I assure you. After I saw you trailing your hand through Varric’s chest hair in Redcliffe’s tavern, however, I didn’t think that was a concern.” Dorian commented.

“That was more of a curiosity. Elves don’t have all that extra hair. I wondered if it felt different than what’s on your head.”

“Elves only have hair on their heads?” Dorian questioned.

“Well, not just there, but not as many places as humans and dwarves,” Nehn answered while studiously avoiding Dorian’s eyes.

“You really are adorable and quite possibly the most virginal mother of three I’ve ever met. Speaking of family - have you gotten any updates about yours?”

“Leliana’s agents are the only people from the Inquisition in contact with my clan, and she doesn’t know about my kids - nor do I want her to at this point. Deshanna’s letters have been vague. I have to assume no news is good news. I worry about Asha the most.”

“Your littlest?”

“Yes, her magic recently manifested. Deshanna is guiding her, but I wish I could be there for her. It was as much for her as anyone that I agreed to spy at the Conclave. Her entire life as a mage has been spent with the mage-templar conflict looming in the background. Templars usually left our clans alone, but once the Circles fell, some started coming after our Keepers.” 

“How did a Dalish elf manage to get into the Conclave after all?”

“I joined a mercenary group. It’s a common enough choice for Dalish that leave a clan. The harder part was hiding I was a mage. Fortunately, I’m good enough with a bow to get by.”

“Chock full of surprises, our little Nehn.” Dorian said and then motioned that someone was approaching.

“Excuse me, Herald. The Commander asked me to inform you that we’re ready for you at the Temple,” a nervous runner reported to Nehn.

“That’s our cue, Dorian. Are you ready?” Nehn asked.

“Of course, my lady. Shall we?” Dorian responded while holding his arm out for Nehn. After taking a deep breath and saying a prayer to Mythal for her protection, Nehn took Dorian’s arm and began to walk toward the wagon that would take her up the mountain.

Sealing the Breach went differently than Nehn anticipated. She stood below the enormous hole in the sky with Cassandra at her side while Solas directed the mages to focus their will toward Nehn. Their power surged through her as she directed her marked hand upward toward the Breach. She had expected that much magic moving through her body to hurt, but it was excruciating and took all her focus not to break the connection too quickly. The shock she felt when she snapped the magical connection to finish sealing the Breach was indescribable and brought her to her knees. Cassandra was there immediately, checking on her, and offering restoratives.

With disbelief at her success, Nehn looked up to see the sky was clear except for a faint glow where the Breach had been. The only time she could remember feeling such a whirlwind of sensations and emotions was when Asha was born. Wiping a few tears from her eyes, Nehn started to walk toward the transport but collapsed from pain and exhaustion. She woke when the wagon was halfway down the mountain and found Solas holding her marked hand and reciting healing incantations in an odd elven dialect.

He smiled and let go of her hand, “You did well. I should have anticipated that dealing with the pain would have taken a lot out of you.”

“You thought it might hurt that much? Fenedhis! Why didn’t you warn me?” Nehn asked angrily.

“Would dreading it have helped?” Solas responded.

“I could have better prepared myself. It makes it easier to know what to expect,” Nehn said her thoughts again returning to Asha’s delivery. Having served as a midwife to several births, she knew the stages of labor and was better able to manage her own response to pain as she went through them. Explaining that to Solas would be pointless, so she just glared at him. _Know-it-all jerk_ she seethed while rubbing her left arm which was still quite sore.

“You dislocated your shoulder when you sealed the Breach. I manipulated it back into place and was working on healing the ligaments and tendons when you awoke. Shall I continue?” Solas asked while reaching for Nehn’s hand.

Although her every instinct was to spitefully resist his assistance, Nehn allowed Solas to heal her arm. What was odd to her was that he still spoke his spells in elven but the dialect was one she understood. _Maybe I just misheard earlier,_ she thought as tingling warmth replaced pain in her arm. Leaning back in the wagon, she fell back to sleep as Solas continued to cast healing magic.

Haven was in all-out celebration by the time Nehn and the others returned from the Temple. Not one for crowds, Nehn stuck close to Cassandra for whom people quickly stepped aside. Once they had reached the stairs outside the Chantry, Nehn looked out at the celebration. 

“Not planning on joining them?” Cassandra asked.

“I don’t really care for crowds or dancing. If it weren’t so loud, I’d just go to my cabin and sleep.”

“The Chantry has much thicker walls. You could lay down on my bed if you’d like,” Cassandra offered. “Tomorrow we will need to figure out our next steps. Even with the Breach sealed, there will likely be more trouble coming.”

Nehn patted Cassandra’s shoulder. “I’ll take you up on that offer if you’re planning to stay up for awhile. Try not to worry yourself into a frenzy. We’ll manage what comes our way. Let yourself enjoy tonight.”

Cassandra didn’t acknowledge Nehn and merely stood with her arms folded watching the celebration.


	17. Chapter 17

Nehn woke up to the clanging of the alarm bells and Cassandra shaking her sore shoulder violently. “Wake up! Haven is under attack. We’ve got to get to the main gate,” Cassandra shouted.

Nehn bolted upright and grabbed her staff. _Gods forbid I ever get to take it easy._ Running through the chaotic village to the main gate, Nehn questioned Cassandra about what had happened.

“A scout reported enemies approaching. You can see their torchfires in the distance. I ran to awaken you. That’s all I know.” Cassandra answered over her shoulder to Nehn who struggled to keep up with the warrior’s long strides.

When they reached the main gate, someone was begging to be let inside. Nehn ordered the gate opened over Cassandra’s warning. As the gate opened, a gigantic man dressed in templar armor fell to his knees, his throat slit open by a shy young rogue wearing a ridiculously oversized hat.

After introducing himself as Cole, the rogue with shaggy blond hair and ghoulishly pale skin told Nehn that he had come to warn and help her. “The templars come to kill you,” he said to Nehn as he pointed to the approaching forces. Cullen became irate at what he assumed was his former comrades' reaction to Nehn’s treatment of the mages. “Is this the Order’s response to our alliance with the mages? Attacking blindly?” Cullen shouted with his sword drawn.

“The Red Templars went to the Elder One,” Cole explained to Cullen and then jerkily turned to Nehn, “Do you know him? He knows you. You took his mages.” Stepping to the side and pointing to a rock outcropping in the distance, Cole said simply, “There...” Nehn believed her eyes had to be deceiving her. Next to a burly but relatively normal looking templar officer was an enormous and grotesquely macabre looking being dressed in Tevinter style mage’s robes. Nehn guessed that the creature may have once been human, but he had certainly been changed into something else. “He’s very angry you took his mages,” Cole said ominously.

Nehn felt desperate. She wasn’t a warrior or strategist, but she knew that the village of Haven was not equipped for withstanding a siege. Turning to Cullen, she asked for his guidance while trying to control the fear that was creeping into her throat. For some reason, seeing his face hardened and resolute as he outlined his plan to hit the attacking force calmed Nehn’s nerves. He called out to his soldiers and the rebel mages in a loud, commanding voice to prepare for battle, and Nehn noticed that his authoritative and assured manner emboldened their troops as it had her. _I guess they didn’t just keep him around for his looks after all,_ Nehn mused seeing the Inquisition’s Commander in his element for the first time.

Acting on Cullen’s advice, Nehn directed Iron Bull and Varric to stay inside the village gates to organize the civilians that could fight and evacuate the others to the Chantry. She asked Dorian, Solas, Cassandra, and Sera to go with her to help Cullen’s soldiers and the rebel mages engage the opposing forces and fire Haven’s trebuchets. The young rogue Cole asked Nehn how he could help, and she ordered him to tell Cullen everything he knew about the enemy. Glancing at Cullen before she left, he gave her a small nod and a reassuring wink before turning his attention fully to his troops. _Well, at least, he thinks I’ll be useful..._

The fighting outside the gates was intense. Nehn briefly wondered how Solas, Dorian, and she would manage in a battle against templars. She worried that they would drain her mana or dispel her magical attacks, but for some reason they chose to fight more conventionally with swords and arrows. For the first time in her life, Nehn prayed to Elgar’Nan for his aid and vengeance. Using a half moon gestural spell, she conjured a barrier around herself and Cassandra while beseeching Mythal for protection and guidance. Finally as Nehn summoned fire to immolate her foes, she asked her patron Sylaise, the hearthkeeper, to fan and sustain the flames.

Nehn and her team were able to keep their enemies away from the closest of Cullen’s trebuchets. His soldiers aimed and loaded the machine with practiced precision then fired a large boulder toward the mountains causing an avalanche that wiped out many of the templars marching toward Haven. 

A runner came to Nehn saying that soldiers were struggling to get a second trebuchet working and asked that she help protect those men while they repaired and loaded the machine. With her team running along side her, Nehn fought her way to the second trebuchet only to find nearly all the soldiers manning it had been killed. One badly injured engineer reported that the trebuchet had been repaired, aimed, and loaded but not yet cocked. Pointing to a wheel on the side of the trebuchet, he directed Nehn to turn it until the machine was at its maximum tension then kick loose a winch to fire it.

Nehn directed Dorian to start cocking the trebuchet while she and the others fended off attacks. “Alright Dorian, it’s time to show me those muscles that you’re always flexing have some use. Get this contraption ready to fire.”

“But I’m too pretty for manual labor!” Dorian protested before setting to work. Enhancing his own strength with force spells, Dorian soon had the machine ready to fire. Nehn gave him a thumbs up sign as he kicked the winch loose and then trebuchet threw another boulder at the mountainside triggering an even more deadly second avalanche. Everyone cheered as the second avalanche took out more of the horde marching toward them, but their revelry was cut short by the appearance of a dragon in the sky.

The dragon breathed fire at the trebuchet destroying it immediately. Nehn frantically looked for Dorian and was relieved to see the mage had fade stepped clear of the blast. Looking positively outraged, Dorian snarled, “Now that was just rude!” Nehn yelled to her team and the soldiers to run for Haven’s gates. As they passed by Harritt’s forge, Nehn and Cassandra stopped to help the blacksmith get into his quarters which had been covered by debris. Harritt ran inside, gathered his favorite tools, and raced with the others toward the gate.

Cullen was standing at the gate waving people inside and telling them to get to the Chantry because it was the only building that stood a chance against dragon fire. He looked at Nehn with what she interpreted as annoyance and ordered, “At this point, just make them work for it,” before running toward some of his soldiers. _It wasn’t like I asked for a dragon to show up, Commander,_ Nehn mentally carped while she surveyed the scene. Many of the wooden buildings were on fire and Red Templars were pouring over breaches in the walls. 

“The villagers will likely need assistance,” Solas shouted to Nehn who agreed. Varric and Iron Bull were waiting at the gate and ran up to Nehn. After fighting off a wave of Red Templars that had flooded over a break in the defenses near the main gate, Nehn told Bull, Varric, Dorian, and one of Cullen’s templars they had just rescued to take the shorter path to the Chantry. “Help whomever you can along the way, but once you make it to the Chantry, get inside and stay put,” Nehn ordered. The rest of her team she directed to follow her along the longer path that would go by the tavern and apothecary.

After electrocuting a group of Red Templars that blocked her path, Nehn swept the tavern for survivors. Cassandra and she carried Flissa out to safety seconds before the roof collapsed. “Maker’s breath!” Flissa gasped and began sputtering about how she promised never to prank the Herald again regardless of the pay. Nehn chalked up her words to confusion caused by smoke inhalation and passed Flissa off to a soldier who was headed to the Chantry.

Minaeve and Adan were just outside the apothecary shop having been wounded by shrapnel. Solas cautioned that the containers they were laying near held volatile liquids, but Nehn refused to leave them to die. Against his better judgment, Solas joined the others in moving Minaeve and Adan to safety before the potion filled clay jars exploded. Working quickly, Nehn healed Minaeve and Adan enough for them to move on their own and told them to run for the Chantry. 

Spinning around, Nehn looked for more people that she might help, but Cassandra grabbed her by the arm and drug her to the Chantry. “There’s no more time, Nehn. We have to get to safety,” she urged as Nehn struggled to free herself. Dorian ran along side and put his arm around Nehn, “You’ve done the best you could. Cassandra is right. We have to regroup inside.” Hearing Dorian echo Cassandra’s arguments, Nehn relented and ran with them to the Chantry. She was the last person to enter before they barred the doors.

As soon as she was inside the Chantry, Nehn stumbled into an alcove and vomited repeatedly. She had been in battles before, but not with people she knew dying around her. _I’m not cut out for this. I can’t do this._ she thought while her mind brought horrific images of charred and mutilated bodies that had been people dancing and laughing mere hours before. She felt a soft touch on her back and glanced up with embarrassment to see Cullen standing with a worried look on his face offering her a water skin.

“I’m sorry...” she began, but he cut her off. “I’d be more worried if you weren’t affected,” he said and motioned for her to take a drink. The water and Cullen’s calm demeanor steadied Nehn’s nerves. After taking a few more sips, Nehn asked him what he considered were their options. The look on his face told her all she needed to know. They were trapped, and the remainder of the Elder One’s forces would quickly reach the Chantry with the dragon clearing a path for them.

Cullen and Nehn rejoined the rest of her team as he described his plan to turn the trebuchets and cover Haven in an avalanche. “We’re dying but we can decide how. Many don’t get that choice,” he ended solemnly. Dorian went apoplectic at Cullen’s suggestion and protested that he hadn’t come all the way from Tevinter to be buried under snow and ice. Remembering his homeland and its propensity for dark magic, Dorian snarled that Cullen was thinking like a blood mage rather than a former templar. Nehn didn’t like Cullen’s idea, but she understood wanting to go out on your own terms while bringing down as many enemies as possible. It was what most of her own people had done as they defended the Dales centuries ago.

The young rogue Cole interrupted saying that Chancellor Roderick, a Chantry official that had agitated against the Inquisition, had an idea. The Chancellor, who had been gravely injured by a Red Templar, described a seldom used path that led from the Chantry into the surrounding mountains. Nehn listened to him intently until Roderick began babbling what she considered to be nonsense about the Maker and Andraste intervening and choosing her. Roderick could keep his Maker and his blasted bride, but she liked his plan for saving Haven’s people.

Nehn asked Cullen if he could evacuate Haven if she provided a distraction. “It’s possible, but what of your escape?” he asked. Nehn’s mind turned to Leliana telling her that giving one small life for a second chance was a bargain. She only hoped that someone would be able to explain her choice to her children. Cullen refused to acknowledge Nehn’s grim resolve. “Perhaps you will surprise it... find a way,” he said before turning aside and directing his soldiers to take the villagers and follow Roderick.

As Cole helped Roderick walk, the Chancellor stopped in front of Nehn and panted through blood stained lips that he would be praying for her. While she doubted the efficacy of his prayers, she appreciated his intent in offering them and thanked him. _At this point, it can’t hurt,_ she reasoned cynically before inquiring who from her team would be willing to join her given the odds. “We’re all with you, Boss,” Bull responded.

Cullen enlisted some volunteers from among his soldiers to fight alongside Nehn and load the trebuchets. He returned to Nehn and told her that he would signal when the evacuees had made it past the tree line. Until that point, Nehn and her team would need to keep the attacking forces occupied. Nehn nodded and then stopped Cullen by putting a hand on his arm. 

“I have a request, Commander,” she said, “I want to give you some things for safekeeping.” Slipping off her wedding ring, removing her eagle pendant necklace, and taking out her puzzle box, she handed them to Cullen. “If I don’t find a way...,” she said before tearing up slightly, “please make sure these items reach my clan. Keeper Deshanna will know who should receive them.” 

Without waiting for Cullen’s reply, Nehn returned to her team and began to dole out the contents of a potion supply crate while describing her plan. “I want Dorian, Bull and Sera to stay near the Chantry to protect our exit and make sure no one else follows the evacuees. I’ll take my original team with me to the trebuchets if no one objects.”

Bull put his hand up. “Boss, none of us have families waiting except you. We can provide the distraction. Go with Cullen and the others.”

“No. The Elder One wants me. I have to go if anyone is to have a chance,” Nehn said firmly as she got ready to unbar the door. “One other thing, if you are coming with me, then you are promising to retreat and reach safety when told - no arguments. Understood?”

“I don’t like the sound of that, Sassy,” Varric said.

“Then leave with Cullen now,” Nehn replied. 

Varric held up his hands in surrender, “Okay, I’ll behave. I never realized you could be such a tough bargainer, Sassy. If we come out of this okay, remind me to let you handle some contracts with the Merchant’s Guild for me.”

“It’s a deal, Varric,” Nehn said while unbarring the door. “Let’s go!” she yelled as Cullen’s men and her team poured out from the Chantry.

Reaching the trebuchet itself was difficult as the Elder One’s forces had already spread throughout the village, but Nehn, Cassandra, Varric, and Solas managed to make it along with a half dozen of Cullen’s men. The soldiers immediately began loading and aiming the trebuchet when they came under attack. Red Templars approached in waves. Some were archers, other knights, while still others were hideously mutated masses with gelatinous backs that could spew red lyrium.

Nehn and her team held them off as best as they could, but the archers took out three of Cullen’s soldiers while the others worked feverishly to ready the trebuchet. The men had the trebuchet loaded, cocked and nearly aimed when a gigantic red templar mutant appeared. The “behemoth” as the Inquisition would later call such creatures was three times the size of a normal man and had a clawed appendage rather than a sword arm that it swung with lethal accuracy. Fortunately, Nehn and Solas identified and exploited its elemental weaknesses and with Cassandra’s persistent hacking and slashing were able to defeat the man turned monster.

The soldiers reported to Nehn that the trebuchet was ready to fire just as she saw the outline of the Elder One’s dragon in the distance. “Go! Now!” Nehn yelled at the top of her lungs. When her team hesitated leaving her, Nehn screamed, “You promised to go. GO!”

Cassandra took hold of Varric and pulled him away with her. “We have to trust the Maker to protect her now,” she said. Solas tried to stay back with Nehn, but she put up a barrier and threatened to attack him if he didn’t leave. 

“You have no idea what you’ll be facing,” he said.

“Well then, I won’t have to worry about dreading it. Go,” Nehn said with deadly sincerity.

Solas shook his head sadly but obeyed. He fade stepped to where Cassandra and Varric had already retreated, and the three continued toward the Chantry. Only Varric looked back to see the dragon landing almost on top of Nehn. 

The Elder One kept his dragon from killing Nehn although it circled her menacingly. She was repulsed by the Elder One’s appearance. His body resembled a desiccated corpse that had been stretched on a rack and his hands had claw-like nails at the ends of overly-elongated and bony fingers. His face, which might have been attractive at one point, was scarred and had jagged pieces of red lyrium growing out of it. His voice was deep and angry as he addressed Nehn, “Pretender, you toy with forces beyond your kin no more.”

_Terrific ... a racist lunatic._ Nehn observed as she tried to keep the man conversing to give her people time to reach safety. Playing along with his obvious superiority complex, Nehn acted interested in his every word and threw in an occasional defiant jab to keep him rambling. _After dealing with Deshanna and Solas, I know how to keep egomaniacs talking._

Eventually, he tired of their banter and held an orb up in his left hand. The metallic ball began to glow red as he fed magic through it. “I came for the anchor. The process of removing it begins now,” he announced while reaching toward Nehn with crackling, glowing red force spell that called to the green magic that pulsed in her left hand. As his magic pulled and tugged on her, the Elder One, who called himself Corypheus, explained that she had only acquired the mark by mistake when she interrupted a spell that he had spent years preparing. His magical pull on Nehn’s hand increased, driving her to her knees in agony, but the green glow stayed firmly in place.

Corypheus claimed that the mark she used to seal rifts had actually been created to cause them as he sought, “to assault the very heavens,” with his power. He continued to cast and pull on the magic in her hand until he finally relented and grabbed her by the wrist and lifted her entire body off the ground. _Ouch! That spiky faced twit just dislocated my shoulder for the second time today!_ Nehn thought indignantly as he claimed to have been one of the Tevinter magisters that entered the Black City over a thousand years before in the name of the Old Gods.

The Elder One fumed that he had seen the throne of the gods and found it empty. _I could have told you that. Fen’Harel locked them in the Beyond long before you went screwing around there._ Then he threw her against the trebuchet. She reacted quickly enough to put up a barrier but pretended as if she had been badly hurt by the impact. “The anchor is permanent,” he hissed, “You have spoilt it with your stumbling.” 

_Sucks to be you,_ Nehn retorted in her mind and got up to her feet and readied herself to cast.

“So be it. I will begin again. Find a way to give this world the nation and god it deserves,” he proclaimed while Nehn saw Cullen’s flare arc in the night sky. She’d done it. She’d kept him talking long enough for everyone to make it clear. As Corypheus stated that he wouldn’t tolerate any rivals and that she must die, Nehn inched toward the winch that would release the trebuchet. 

“If I’m dying, it’s not by your hand,” Nehn exclaimed defiantly while kicking the winch loose and fade stepping past the supposed magister and his dragon. Trying to avoid the oncoming avalanche, Nehn ran but fell into a hole that had been covered by boards that were burned away by dragon fire. Then everything went black.

Nehn awoke some time later in an underground cavern. The cavern, though, had stairs and archways carved into some of the rocks. Nehn guessed she had fallen into a mining tunnel or pilgrim’s passage. She felt dizzy and nauseated as she tried to sit up and reached to check her head. The back of her scalp was a bloody mess and her left arm hung at an odd angle. _Head injury and dislocated shoulder_ she noted then began to check her body for other pains. _No broken limbs, maybe a few broken ribs._ She couldn’t sense any internal bleeding which was good. Still she would have to prioritize her healing. Her head injury and broken ribs were the only things worth wasting mana repairing. She would have to reduce the shoulder without magic.

After saying a prayer to Sylaise to guide her healing, Nehn treated her head injury and ribs. She still had a concussion, but she was no longer bleeding from her scalp and had mended the hairline fracture to her skull. Her ribs knit beautifully and Nehn thanked the gods that none of them had punctured a lung. It was too cold to allow herself to remain still, so Nehn forced herself to stand. Stumbling over to a rock wall, Nehn gritted her teeth and pressed her shoulder back into socket. “Fenedhis!” she screamed and then sighed as the pain receded.

Uncertain which direction she should go, Nehn chose to go uphill rather than down reasoning that Cullen had led the evacuees high into the mountains. If she hoped to survive long, she would need to find the others or some type of shelter. As she moved through the tunnel, Nehn began to notice other aches in her body, but she knew she couldn’t expend any more magic on healing. She might need to start a fire or defend herself.

Nehn didn’t know how long she jogged and limped through the tunnel, but eventually she saw daylight. Unfortunately, several demons stood between her and the exit. Holding out her marked hand, Nehn was surprised that a small rift opened sucking the demons inside it before sealing. _That’s new,_ she noted but was grateful for the unexpected skill’s timely arrival.

Wrapping her head with rags that had fallen off a demon’s body Nehn got ready to go outside. _Beggars can’t be choosers, and a demon rag hat is better than nothing._ She spotted a broken down wagon soon after she left the tunnel and found a cloak, a few healing potions and a small amount of food. _Mythal’s blessing on whomever thought to leave these for stragglers._ Although blizzard like conditions made it a near white out, Nehn pressed forward, her spirits buoyed by her find and the warmth of the cloak.

Just when Nehn was convinced that she had surely lost her way, she would discover a new trail sign - a flapping Chantry robe tied to a tree, a snowman that held an empty bottle of ale, or broken boxes arranged into arrows. The trail signs had Sera’s touch all over them, and Nehn was thankful that she had brought the quirky city elf with her to Haven.

Even with the encouraging trail signs, the cold and her injuries were making it difficult for Nehn to keep going. _Warm thoughts, Nehn._ she ordered herself and began to think of happy memories. _Being chosen as First by Clan Lavellan, casting my first successful healing spell, officiating Ayla’s wedding, practicing archery with Falon, watching Asha’s first steps, helping Sylvia care for her menagerie of pets, feeling Garel... NO!_

Nehn would not allow herself to think about Garel. If she did that, then she would sit down and pray for Falon’Din to guide her soul to him. Her mind needed to focus on the living. _Leliana’s cascading laugh, Josephine sharing her precious chocolate stash, Cassandra’s disgusted noises at Sera’s pranks, Solas’ stories about the Fade, Dorian’s over-the-top flirting, Bull’s bawdy humor, Varric throwing Wicked Grace games so she’d have money, and Cullen's determination to win or die trying._

And then she saw the faint glow of still warm embers from a fire. _Thank you, Sylaise, for your gift of fire._ They had to be close. Willing herself onward with what little strength she had remaining and pulling her left glove off to reveal the mark’s glowing green magic, Nehn collapsed shortly after she saw the Inquisition’s tents and heard Cullen shouting, “There! It’s her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter after a few short ones. We've nearly made it to Skyhold. **happy dance** An admonition - I will largely be canon compliant, but I will take liberties with the romance timelines - shuffling, adding, and allowing more than one relationship to develop at a time. I promise, though, to stay true to the characters as I understand them. 
> 
> All that to say, you shouldn't assume your preferred 'ship won't eventually sail or that another might not run aground. My daughter and husband (who act as my proof readers/sounding boards) already have strong (and quite different) opinions about who would be best for Nehn. You can be sure they'll be advocating for their favored pairings. Feel free to do the same.


	18. Chapter 18

Cullen and Cassandra ran toward Nehn as she fell to her knees in the snow. Cullen took off his fur trimmed cloak and wrapped Nehn in it as she tried to get back to her feet. “I’ve got you,” Cullen said as he swept her up and carried her toward camp. “So cold,” Nehn whispered as shivering overtook her body. Cassandra yelled for the healers and told Cullen to take Nehn to her tent.

From his place near a campfire, Varric glanced up and saw Cullen carrying something swathed in his coat. When Nehn’s glowing marked hand dropped out from beneath the red velvet, Varric couldn’t believe his eyes. She’d made it back to them. He wished for longer legs as he ran to reach Cullen and check on Nehn’s condition.

Varric followed Cullen into Cassandra’s tent. “How is she, Curly?” he asked anxiously. 

“You could just ask me,” Nehn groused weakly.

Varric gave a whoop of delight upon hearing her voice while Cullen chided her for expending unnecessary energy talking. Cassandra entered the small tent and directed Varric and Cullen to wait outside. “I have to get her out of these wet clothes and start warming her up. The healers will be here soon.”

“I’ve got an idea about how to safely warm her,” Cullen stated and ran off without another word.

Cassandra started to fuss with Nehn’s armor and then called Varric back into the tent. “She’s shaking too hard for me to work the straps. Help hold her still while I get her armor off.”

Nehn’s lips were blue and her teeth were chattering when she looked at Varric and said, “I hate snow.”

“I’ll bet you do,” he answered with a chuckle while wrapping his arms around her tightly to still her shaking. “What the hell is wrapped around your head, Sassy?”

“Demon rags,” Nehn answered in halting breaths.

“I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. You know your life is weird, right?”

Nehn nodded as Cassandra opted to simply cut off her leathers rather than fooling with the laces which had frozen.

“I liked that jerkin,” Nehn complained.

“We will get you a new one,” Cassandra replied before telling Varric to turn away while she helped Nehn into clean smalls. “Help me get her under the covers,” Cassandra ordered Varric once Nehn was in fresh panties and an undershirt.

Varric tried not to gawk as he gently laid Nehn back on the cot, but he couldn’t help but notice how badly bruised she was especially on her left side. She winced when Cassandra laid quilts and furs over her.

“Your hands and feet are frostbitten,” Cassandra noted with concern.

Once Varric and Cassandra had Nehn situated under the covers, her shaking grew more violent. Solas and another healer entered the tent. “As bad as it looks, that shaking is a good sign. Her body is trying to warm itself. If her body temperature had fallen too low, she wouldn’t have the energy to shiver.” Solas explained as he cast a spell to raise the temperature inside the tent.

The other healer, an enchanter named Elindra that Nehn had recruited in the Hinterlands, asked Cassandra and Varric to leave while they examined the Herald. All of Nehn’s inner circle were waiting just outside the tent for an update when they exited.

“She is hypothermic and injured, but she feels well enough to complain,” Cassandra reported.

“Told you she’d make it,” Sera exulted. “Looks all waifish and elfy, but she’s tough as old leather studded with nails.”

“Sassy was wearing a makeshift cowl fashioned from demon rags. I shit you not,” Varric laughed. “Sera, she found the cache and trail signs we left for her, too.”

Cullen came up to the group with the kennel master and two large mabari hounds. “What are you doing with those?” Bull asked.

“They can sleep beside Lady Lavellan. They’re warmer than any person and much more discrete,” Cullen answered before directing the kennel master to take the dogs into the tent.

Elindra was healing Nehn’s extremities which were frostbitten while Solas was trying to determine the extent of her other injuries. 

“You are a proficient healer,” he commented to Nehn who rolled her eyes in response.

“Why did you bring in those hounds, Commander?” Elindra asked pointedly.

“They can lay beside her and keep her warm,” Cullen offered.

“An excellent idea,” Solas responded. “Elindra, how are her hands and feet?”

“The Herald’s hands should be fine when I finish. Her feet are worse, but I expect they will heal with time and gentle care. She may even keep all her toes. What about the rest of her?” 

“She had a serious head injury and several broken ribs but had already healed them herself - quite masterfully I might add. Her left shoulder, however, is of particular concern.” Solas stated.

“I didn’t want to waste mana on it,” Nehn explained. “It’s a good thing I didn’t as I ran into some demons a little while later.” 

Cullen shook his head at the thought of her fighting demons after everything else that had happened to her that day. “How was your shoulder injured?” he asked.

“I hurt it the first time sealing the Breach. Solas patched it up, but that creepy magister yanked me around by my wrist, lifted me off the ground, and tossed me into the fucking trebuchet,” Nehn cursed.

Cullen smirked at Nehn’s ire and couldn’t remember a time he had been so happy to see someone so obviously peeved. She was certainly a fighter.

Walking the dogs over, the kennel master directed one to curl near Nehn’s feet and the other to lay along her right side. “I could have him bring a third one for her other side,” Cullen offered.

“No, the smell from two is enough,” Nehn snipped and then said in a gentler, drowsy voice, “Thank you, though, Cullen.”

Solas explained, “I’ve given her a sleeping draught, so we can mend her shoulder without her experiencing too much pain. If you wouldn’t mind leaving, we would have more room to work.” 

An hour later, Elindra left the tent and informed Cassandra that the Herald would likely sleep the rest of the night. “Her shoulder is still in awful shape. It’s a good thing she’s a mage and not a warrior as she will probably lose some range of motion permanently in that arm. It would be helpful if you could make sure someone is with her at all times, she still has a concussion and is a bit... combative. Her feistiness is good in the sense that it kept her going, but it could undo her recovery.” 

“Babysitting the Boss. That should be memorable,” Bull commented. “I’ll take first shift. She’s more likely to sleep through it,” he added while winking his good eye.

“Pisshead coward,” Sera said then volunteered for whenever Nehn was likely to be awake.

The rest of Nehn’s comrades quickly decided their shifts and left to either sleep or celebrate while Bull went through the tent flap one horn at a time. Bull was surprised to find Solas sitting on a stool beside Nehn’s cot with his face buried in his hands. Upon hearing Bull’s footfalls, Solas straightened and stood while exuding an air of insouciance. As a trained observer, Bull noted that Solas’ slightly bloodshot eyes betrayed the elf’s true emotions. 

Solas briefed Bull on Nehn’s injuries and then said, “She will recover well. To have faced that creature and his dragon alone, she is ... quite unlike anything I’ve ever seen outside of the Fade.” 

“Yeah, the Boss has the heart of a dragon,” Bull agreed. “What about you? Are you okay? I mean it’s been tough on all of us knowing we left her back there, seeing the mountain come down on top of her...” 

Solas held up his hand. “I am merely tired, Bull. I will return in a few hours to check on her,” he replied while slipping out the tent.

******************  
With Nehn sorted for the moment, Cullen returned to his tent and directed his officers to restrict search parties to daylight hours since the Herald had been located. He then took a follow up report on how many soldiers and civilians were missing or killed. As he expected, the numbers of those missing remained largely unchanged while the confirmed casualties rose. From the appearance of some of the soldiers and townspeople in the Inquisition’s infirmary tents, Cullen anticipated more deaths in the upcoming days as infection and cold finished what swords, arrows, and fire had began. _Maker, do not leave them to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond, but see them to your side_ he prayed silently as he looked over the reports.

When he had established rotations for the next day and asked for recommendations for promotions to replace officers killed at Haven, Cullen dismissed his men and slumped onto his bedroll. The urge to take lyrium was nearly overpowering for him as he considered what he could have done differently in Haven. Their defenses might have held were it not for the dragon. No one would have anticipated a dragon attack, but it was his job to foresee the unexpected. He failed, and she nearly died cleaning up his mess.

Thinking about Nehn, he pulled out the pouch where he had placed the items she handed him before leaving the Chantry - a ring, a necklace, and a box. The ring was a simple band with an elven inscription on the inside. The necklace had an eagle pendant hand forged in silver. It showed the fine detail and abstraction typical of elven artisans. The box interested him the most. It was made from sylvanwood and had moveable wood pieces. Cullen realized it was some sort of puzzle and began to play with it - the clicking and sliding of the wood distracting him from his cravings and worries. He occasionally stopped to wonder who had given Nehn the items and who she had intended to receive them if she died. Pushing those thoughts aside as too intrusive into Nehn’s life, he returned to trying to solve the box. 

Cullen awoke several hours later when a messenger entered his tent. The box was still in his hand- unsolved. It had seemed simple enough when Cullen started moving the pieces around, but it was frustratingly difficult. Placing the box with Nehn’s other things in the pouch, Cullen stood and took his messages. After grabbing a piece of hardtack for breakfast, Cullen went to check on Nehn.

When he went inside her tent, Cullen was thrilled to see Nehn resting well, propped up on pillows and flanked by the mabari. As he walked closer, one of the dogs briefly lifted its head and cocked an ear before resting its head back on its paws. Sera was wrapped in a blanket, sitting beside Nehn, and snoring loudly. Cullen suppressed a chuckle at the sight. Not wanting to disturb Nehn’s recovery, he turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” he heard a weak voice asking.

“Lady Lavellan, I didn’t mean to disrupt your sleep. I wanted to see if you had a good night and if there was anything I could do to aid your recovery.”

Sera snored and snorted as Cullen spoke but stayed asleep. 

“There is actually,” Nehn admitted. “I very much need to relieve myself, but I can’t get out of bed on my own - much less walk. Could you fetch someone to help me? I think Sera drank too much and is passed out cold.”

“Absolutely,” Cullen responded and took off to find some female servants or soldiers. Grabbing the first two women he saw, he pushed them into the tent, directing them to do whatever the Herald asked. They emerged a few minutes later. One was red-faced and carrying a chamber pot while the other gave Cullen a spiteful glare. Worried that he had done something wrong, Cullen poked his head into Nehn’s tent and asked if she was alright.

“Much better - although you might want to warn Josephine that you had some nobles assist me with toileting,” Nehn giggled.

“Maker’s breath! I didn’t want you to have an accident, so I just grabbed the first women I saw,” Cullen said in exasperation.

“I’m not upset. I think it’s hilarious. More Orleasian noblewomen could stand to wipe a few elven asses.”

Cullen grinned and stepped into the tent, “I see we share similar opinions of the nobility.”

“What you had them do was probably the most useful thing they’ll accomplish this year whether they know it or not. So I take it that you aren’t noble born?”

“Hardly. I’m a Ferelden farmer’s son. My title is only from serving in the Inquisition’s military.”

“I like you better already,” Nehn admitted then motioned for him to come closer. “I’m sorry I was nasty about the dogs last night. It was a very good idea, and I’ve actually enjoyed their company. The Dalish don’t typically keep pets. Food is too scarce. Although I know of one kindhearted little girl, who was always taking in strays.”

“Was that you?” Cullen asked.

Nehn shook her head. “My daughter.”

Cullen’s jaw dropped. “You have a daughter?”

“Two daughters and a son.”

“So the things you gave me...”

“Were for them. Yes. Speaking of, could I have them back?”

“Of course.” Cullen said as he fumbled in his pocket for the pouch. “Sorry, I’m still stunned about your having a child- much less three.”

“I’m finding that is a pretty typical reaction. You’d think no one ever had families,” Nehn quipped.

“But you’ve never mentioned them...”

“I wanted to keep them out of this mess, but it seems that it will be going on much longer than I anticipated. When and if we get situated somewhere safe, I’d like to send for them.”

“Certainly. Will their father come as well?”

“No. He passed two years ago.” Nehn said and was proud of herself for not tearing up at the admission.

“I’m sorry for your loss... Here, I put everything you gave me in this pouch,” he said while placing the bag in Nehn’s right hand. “I have to admit that I played some with the box. It’s a devil to solve.” Cullen confessed 

Nehn blushed slightly when she asked, “Did you solve the box?”

“No, I kept getting close, or at least I think I was close.”

Nehn laughed. “I’ll have to tell you the story behind the box some time. You’ll most likely be quite relieved that you didn’t bring it back opened when you hear it.”

Nehn’s laughter roused Sera and she mumbled, “Who’s that? Whaddya want?”

“I see your nursemaid has awakened. Until later, Lady Lavellan.”

“Nehn. Please, call me Nehn, Commander.”

“As you wish, Nehn. Although I will continue to address you more formally in public. You are welcome to call me Cullen if it pleases you.”

“Fair enough, Cullen,” Nehn replied with a twinkle in her eyes.

“You’ve got a crush,” Sera accused when Cullen had left the tent.

“I do not. I’m just trying to be more civil. We didn’t get off to a good start,” Nehn retorted.

“Not buying it. You’re hot for Commander Cully Wully. Didn’t even give the blighter his coat back.”

“Shit. I didn’t realize I still had it. Sera, take it to him for me. Please.”

“Nope. He’ll come back. You’ll see. I could hear the relief in his voice when he found out the mister wasn’t around anymore.”

“You were eavesdropping?”

“I just wasn’t interrupting your flirting.”

“I was NOT flirting. I asked the man to get people to help me pee. That is not flirting. That is humiliating.”

“Gotta say I enjoyed hearing those pissy nobles dealing with your piss,” Sera snickered. “I didn’t realize that you needed to go that badly, though. Next time tell me why you want me to wake up. I just thought you were bored.”

“You are the worst nurse ever,” Nehn snarled.

“Maybe but my trail signs got your elfy ladybits here, so we’re even.”


	19. Chapter 19

Solas had barely slept since Haven’s fall four days earlier. Guilt and adrenaline had kept him awake while they searched for the Herald and tended to her injuries. With Nehn safe and guarded, he finally allowed himself to drift into the Fade. Directing his mind to find his friend Wisdom in the dream world, he found himself walking through an old growth forest. The air was heady, and his steps were silent as he moved along the leaf strewn forest floor. Finally, he found a small cabin and knocked on the door.

Wisdom, a spirit who chose to present herself as a young elven woman to Solas, smiled as she let him inside. “You’ve been away for some time. What have you learned?” she asked.

“That I am a careless fool,” he replied with self-loathing.

“Fools seldom seek my counsel or company,” Wisdom answered. “What is it you want from me?”

“Guidance. Forgiveness,” Solas replied.

“I am always happy to share my knowledge, but I can’t offer forgiveness because I am not who you wronged.”

Solas bowed his head and then took a seat across from Wisdom near the fire. “When I awoke from my slumber, I was too weak to unlock my orb.”

“And so you gave your power to another,” Wisdom stated.

“Yes. And he has abused that opportunity seeking to make himself a god rather than set the world right.”

“Perhaps he feels he is setting things right. Pride often causes people to romanticize the past,” Wisdom said with a hint of accusation in her voice.

“The world he seeks to create is an abomination. I only want to help my people regain what was lost,” Solas argued.

“Not unlike a magister that wants to see his empire resurrected,” Wisdom said quietly.

“It is completely different. I meant to atone for my arrogance,” Solas snapped.

Wisdom said nothing in response and turned to the fire. 

“What do you think I should do?” Solas pleaded.

“Help her. She alone has the ability to thwart his plans.”

“They already seek to elevate her...” Solas warned.

“They may raise her into a position of power. Some may even think her a god. What matters is that she believes differently and wants nothing more than to protect and preserve.”

“That kind of power always corrupts even the purest of intentions,” Solas retorted.

“You continue to underestimate her. Why?”

“She’s unpredictable, fascinating, but she is just a mortal. A Dalish no less...”

Wisdom raised her eyebrow. “It is interesting that Fen’Harel would dismiss someone for a lowly birth. Or does your disdain for her come from how the Dalish have interpreted your actions?”

Solas growled a bit in the back of his throat but didn’t counter Wisdom’s words.

“She will need a safe place to rebuild and regroup - one guarded by ancient magics as well as topography,” Wisdom counseled.

“Skyhold,” Solas whispered, and Wisdom nodded.

“Solas, one more piece of advice. Determine what you really want, and don’t let either Love or Duty sway you from that course. Trying to serve both will bring only heartache and destruction.”

Solas wrinkled his brow, “I’m afraid I don’t understand your meaning.”

“You know, but you don’t want to admit it to yourself. Just consider what I’ve said.”

********************

Nehn was sitting cross legged on her cot using a mabari as a backrest. Varric sat at the foot of the cot with his legs dangling off the sides. “Three serpents!” he exalted while laying his cards on the bed between them.

“Bullshit! How do you keep winning?” Nehn asked indignantly while struggling to lay down her own cards. The medics had bound her left arm to her waist to immobilize her injured shoulder which made managing her cards tricky. 

“Talent and a fair amount of cheating,” Varric answered with a wink.

Nehn exhaled loudly in exasperation and rubbed her forehead.

"Still having headaches? I could get the healers.” Varric offered.

“My head hurts, and I ache all over. But what is killing me is being stuck in this tent. If my feet weren’t such a mess, I’d walk out of here.”

“And promptly fall face first into the snow. You’re tough, but you need to give your body time to recover.” Varric cautioned.

Nehn patted the right side of the cot, and her mabari companion moved from behind her. Laying back on her pillow, Nehn continued to rub her head and neck.

“Let me try,” Varric said while sliding off the cot and walking closer to Nehn. Putting his hand behind her neck, he massaged her shoulders and along her spine. Nehn hummed in appreciation. 

“I thought dwarves weren’t healers, but you have magic hands,” Nehn raved.

“When you don’t have magic, you learn to use what you have,” he said while working a particularly tight knot loose. “What has you so tense, Sassy?”

“We can’t stay here. It’s too cold and too exposed. There aren’t enough animals to hunt, and there is no way to grow crops.”

“I don’t think anyone is intending for us to stay. We’re just waiting,” Varric commented.

“Yes, waiting for me to get better. Waiting for me to come up with something. I’m out of ideas, Varric, and my advisors are spending all their time arguing with each other.”

“Concentrate on healing. It will be fine,” Varric advised while massaging Nehn’s scalp. “You have very pretty hair. Brown with red highlights. Are there redheads in your family?”

“Do you have a thing for redheads like Bull?” Nehn said while opening one eye to look at Varric.

“No, just making conversation.”

“My grandmother had red hair. I can hardly remember her.”

“Roll on your right side, and I’ll get your back. Did she die when you were young?”

“I transferred to Clan Lavellan when I was ten. I haven’t had much contact with my birth clan since then.”

“Not even letters from your family?”

“The Dalish are nomadic, Varric. It isn’t as if we have a postal system. Getting messages to a specific clan requires sending hunters away to track them.”

“So how do the Dalish clans communicate?”

“We have dead drops spread throughout Thedas where we can put updates and make requests, but you don’t know which clan will find them or when. That’s how my clan found out Sabrae needed halla. Marethari left a letter asking to replenish their herd and gave their expected location for the next few months. It turns out Sabrae stayed on Sundermount for years.”

“I’m well aware of that. I think Marethari hoped Daisy would come back to them. Am I pressing too hard on your back?”

“No, that feels perfect. You’re very good to me, Varric," Nehn praised before returning to their main topic of conversation. "A good First is tough to find. There are always mages, but locating a person to whom you can entrust an entire clan is a Keeper’s most difficult task. I’m sure Marethari wanted to give Merrill every opportunity to return.”

“So you aren’t worried that Lavellan will replace you?”

“They may. I don’t know if the clan will welcome me back after I’ve spent so much time away.”

“Surely they wouldn’t hold this against you. You’re saving the world.”

“Don’t dwarves act similarly toward those that go to the surface?” Nehn asked.

“Those dwarves are narrow minded, Stone obsessed traditionalists. I’d hoped for better from elves.”

“People are people, Varric.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fairly short update today. It will likely be a few days before another as I'm going to force myself to wrap up the Evelyn/Cullen series that I had been writing previously. It's named "Of Sweet Memories and Guarded Moments" and is about one update away from finishing the in game storyline. I hate writing endings, but I've procrastinated enough. Wish me good writing vibes.
> 
> Also the elven lore that I have read doesn't list Solas as a child of Mythal and Elgar'nan. I head canon that he was a gifted mage elevated to a position of power by his cunning and prowess rather than birth.


	20. Chapter 20

Nehn woke up to the sound of her advisors arguing loudly. _Again? You’ve got to be kidding me._ Sitting up quickly in aggravation, Nehn felt dizzy and reached for her head. _Damn concussion. Damn healing elixirs._ She felt a hand steadying her and looked to see Mother Giselle sitting beside her. _Not her again. All she does is lisp about the Maker. I thought Dorian was supposed to be sitting with me - not this old Chantry bat._

Giselle pressed Nehn to acknowledge the Maker’s hand in her survival, but Nehn refused. “Whatever the rest of you say, I felt no divine aid at the Conclave or Haven,” Nehn retorted while steadying herself on the edge of her cot. “I need to speak with my advisors,” she announced.

Nehn limped out of her tent and saw Leliana, Josephine, Cullen, and Cassandra absorbed in their own anger and thoughts. Mother Giselle followed her and gripped her sore left arm tightly before beginning to sing a hymn in her full contralto voice. At first, Nehn thought the song was quite lovely but as Leliana and then others began singing Nehn felt a sense of panic rise in her gut. They were singing to her, about her. _No, no, no! This is wrong. Stop!_

Nehn wanted to retreat from the spectacle, but she was kept from leaving by the Chantry Mother’s firm grasp on her very tender left arm. When Cullen joined in, closing his eyes as if in prayer, Nehn began to cry. _Not you, too. I’m not a prophet. I’m a person. Stop._ She tried to give voice to her thoughts, but her words couldn’t be heard over the crowd’s voices. Soldiers and townspeople came before her with clasped hands and kneeled as they sang. Nausea swept over Nehn as she struggled to keep her composure. When the song ended, Nehn was left trembling and disoriented as Mother Giselle finally released the vice-like grip she had held on Nehn’s arm.

“Faith may have yet to find you, but it has already found them,” Mother Giselle emphasized to Nehn.

Solas slid beside Nehn and said, “A word?” in a sharp tone. _He has to know that I didn’t want that to happen. Gods, this is awful._ As Solas walked away from camp, Nehn trailed behind him feeling overcome by dread and shame. _I should have protested more loudly. I should have made that old hag let me go._ Lighting a torch with a graceful gesture, Solas congratulated Nehn on being the first of her people to be so elevated in many ages. _Fenedhis! You of all people should understand why no elf would want to be praised as holy by humans._ Nehn fumed inwardly.

As if reading her thoughts, Solas acknowledged that their worship could quickly turn to ire if they knew that the orb Corypheus carried was elven in origin. _What? I didn’t know that. I just thought they were fickle and likely to turn against elves out of habit._ Nehn thought.

Solas continued, “Corypheus used the orb to open the Breach. Unlocking it must have caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave. We must find out how he survived... and we must prepare for their reaction, when they learn the orb is of our people.” _**Our** people? Now its **our** people? You wanted to distance yourself from anything remotely Dalish earlier - including me._

Fighting against her urge to scream expletives at Solas, Nehn asked as calmly as she could manage, “Alright. What is it, and how do you know about it?” _And why in the Void did you only think to mention this tidbit now?_

“Such things were foci, said to channel power from our gods. Some were dedicated to specific members of our pantheon.” Solas explained while standing stiffly with his hands behind his back. _This is rich. They’re _our_ gods now? After you’ve said repeatedly that you don’t believe the Creators were truly divine. You’ve got to be kidding me, _ Nehn nearly shouted but kept her ideas to herself because she wanted Solas to keep talking. 

“However Corypheus came to it, the orb **is** elven, and with it, he threatens the heart of human faith,” Solas concluded. 

_Well, shit... as if the day couldn’t get any worse._ “Regardless of what we do, they will blame elves eventually. It is their way,” Nehn said with resignation.

“Which is why we must conduct ourselves in such a way as to be beyond reproach,” Solas counseled.

“Solas, what aren’t you telling me?” Nehn questioned.

“What do you mean?” Solas responded cooly.

“I feel as if you’re holding something back. What else do I need to know?”

Inwardly, Solas was both impressed and annoyed by Nehn’s perceptiveness. Outwardly, Solas kept his demeanor tightly controlled so as not to give anything away. “I have told you everything I think you should know,” he answered slyly.

Nehn immediately spotted his evasion and wanted him to know it. “You’ve given me a good deal to consider. Let me know if anything else _pertinent_ comes to mind,” Nehn said while turning back to camp.

“There is one other matter we should discuss,” Solas called out to her. “There is a place to the north where the Inquisition could rebuild and grow. It merely waits for a force to hold it.”

Nehn stopped and turned toward Solas slowly. “How do you know of this place?” 

“I have seen it in my journeys in the Fade.”

_I’m really getting sick of that response. He must have slept almost his entire life away with all the information he claims to have gleaned there._ “And you’re sure that it isn’t merely an illusion - a trick of the Fade?”

A smile crept across Solas’ face. “You’re quite the cynic. I have wandered the Fade enough to be able to recognize a mirage. The place - Skyhold - is real, and I can guide you there.”

“Inform Cullen and Leliana. We’ll set out as soon as they can ready everyone to travel.” 

****************

Cullen noticed Nehn returning from what had seemed to be a tense conversation with Solas. When he briefly made eye contact with her, she seemed so sad that he was concerned. Against his better judgment, he cut off the conversation he was having with one of the quartermaster’s assistants and followed Nehn into her tent.

“You seem upset. Is everything alright?” Cullen asked.

Nehn had been so consumed by her conflicting emotions and headache that she hadn’t even registered that Cullen had trailed her. She startled at his voice and then sighed as she plopped down on her cot.

“That thing that happened - with Giselle. That was wrong,” she explained.

“What do you mean?”

“You’d be comfortable with people kneeling before you or acting as if they were praying to you? Do you have any clue how fucking awkward I feel right now? I’m not Andrastian. I know I wasn’t chosen. I am just an exceptionally unlucky elf surrounded by a camp full of crazy humans. Wait... that was harsh. It’s just...ugh,” Nehn gave up trying to explain herself and instead pressed her hand to her temple. Her head throbbed with every heartbeat and her chest was tight with anxiety.

Cullen closed his eyes and swallowed hard. It was his turn to feel awkward. He had been so caught up in the relief of Nehn being alive, in the Inquisition still having a fighting chance that he hadn’t considered how she might feel about the outpouring of devotion that he and the others had shown. 

Grabbing the back of his neck, he struggled to find words to explain. “I...uh... you see... hmm.” After forcing himself to breathe and organize his thoughts, he said, “Nehn, you have no idea how despondent I ... I mean _we_ were when we thought you dead, and then you weren’t. I know you don’t see it as a miracle, but from my... _our_ perspective it is hard to see it as anything but that. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. You’re right. I wouldn’t have enjoyed that kind of attention.”

“Promise me that you’ll never do anything like that again,” Nehn pleaded.

“Was my singing that bad?” Cullen joked.

Nehn laughed and shook her head. “You have a beautiful voice, Cullen. I’d just rather hear it under different circumstances.”

Cullen smiled and sat down on the stool beside Nehn’s cot. “You and Solas were speaking for quite some time.”

“Tell me about it. He thinks that the orb Corypheus was using is elven - something from one of our gods no less.”

“Maker. Why would he think that?”

“He claims to have seen writings and drawings about such things in the Fade.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow. Nehn agreed with his suspicious response. “Don’t get me started on how much he claims to know from the Fade. There’s more... better news if it’s true. He claims there is an abandoned fortress near us - ripe for the taking.”

“And he saw that in the Fade as well?” Cullen said dubiously.

“So he claims. Do you think it’s possible that he really can navigate the Fade that well?” Nehn asked.

Cullen ran a gloved hand along the stubble on his chin while he considered her question. “There was an elf-blooded apostate living in Kirkwall’s alienage that we became aware of...”

“We meaning the templars?” Nehn interrupted and Cullen nodded.

“Hawke brought the boy, Feynriel, to the Gallows at his mother’s request. He had unique abilities related to dreaming, but he was also tortured by demons when he slept. The mages tried for several years to help him, but he never truly gained control over his gifts. Perhaps Solas has similar skills but was able to master them.”

“What happened to Feynriel?”

“After several years without improvement, he was made Tranquil at the recommendation of both First Enchanter Orsino and Knight-Commander Meredith. It was one of the rare instances where they both agreed on a course of action.”

Nehn stared at the floor. It was hard to reconcile the Cullen she knew with one that would ever think destroying a mage’s mind was a reasonable solution. Maybe she didn’t really _know_ Cullen.

“I think it’s worth trying to find this fortress,” Nehn said eager to turn the conversation in a different direction. “We can’t stay where we are.”

“I agree.”

“Cullen, I also think it best if only my advisors and inner circle know about the orb’s origin at this point. Elves and humans have troubled enough relations as it is. I’m worried how some might react.”

Cullen nodded. “We have no proof of what Solas alleges. It would be foolhardy to widely disperse such information even if we did. Just because the orb may be elven doesn’t mean that elves handed it over to Corypheus.”

“When can we leave?” Nehn asked.

“I can have everyone ready to depart by tomorrow morning if you wish it. There are a few that may be too injured to travel, but I can leave some soldiers and medics to stay with them. Do you feel well enough?”

“I can’t walk far, but I’m strong enough to travel by wagon. I think that I have to go if we’re expecting people to follow.”

“I’ll speak with Solas and then begin preparations immediately,” Cullen said with a brief bow and exited the tent.

“Fenedhis, what a day!” Nehn cursed as she flopped back onto her pillow.

 

********************  
The journey to Skyhold was arduous but thankfully not long. Nehn largely stayed in a wagon at the front of the procession, but she occasionally had to get out and walk with Solas along rocky crags to identify viable paths for their wagons and people. Bull was incredibly helpful to her under those circumstances carrying her wherever she needed to go as soon as they left eyeshot of the main group. Nehn didn’t want the rank and file members of the Inquisition aware of how weak she still was. Their morale was shaky, and she didn’t want them to have additional cause for worry.

When Nehn caught her first glimpse of the fortress, she was dumbstruck. It wasn’t a small hold. It was an enormous castle crowning a steep mountainside. She wasn’t a military strategist, but she could tell that it would be nearly impossible to assault. The mountain walls around the keep were sheer and the sightlines from the battlements would likely stretch for miles. They would not be caught unaware there as they had been at Haven.

Glancing over at Solas, she noticed a smug look of satisfaction on his face as he registered her awe. She had to give the evasive elf credit. He was right about Skyhold being a perfect place for the Inquisition to rebuild. “Solas, this is more than I could have imagined,” she finally admitted out loud. “Thank you for bringing us here.”

“Ma nuvenin, da’len,” he responded with a subtle grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven  
> Ma nuvenin, da'len. = My pleasure, little one.
> 
> So I said the update might be slow but I knocked out both this one and the other that I'd been dreading writing today. I'll have to get raspberry loaf from Starbucks more often. It fuels creative frenzies.


	21. Chapter 21

Skyhold had been abandoned for quite some time if its condition was any indicator. While its external walls were strong, many of its internal buildings and walkways were in bad disrepair. Nehn felt overwhelmed as she looked around at all the work that would have to be done to make the fortress completely functional. Reminding herself that Skyhold’s remote location and thick walls would protect them in the meantime, Nehn felt some of the anxiety that had been dogging her since Haven slip away.

At Enchanter Elindra’s insistence, Nehn was sequestered in the infirmary upon reaching the keep. The healer remembered Nehn’s tireless efforts to restore the Hinterlands and knew that Nehn would work herself nearly to death at Skyhold if given the opportunity. Despite Nehn’s protestations, all of her advisors and inner circle agreed with Elindra, so she had no choice but to comply with the healer’s restrictions.

After a week, Elindra declared that Nehn was well enough to leave the infirmary, but she also made it clear to everyone in Skyhold that Nehn was not to do any manual labor. Nehn had never been idle so long, and it was making her miserable. She tried slipping into inconspicuous clothes and joining a cleaning crew, but Leliana’s agents discovered her quickly. After a tongue lashing from the spymaster, Nehn moped around the main keep before approaching Solas.

“I’m bored,” Nehn whined to Solas who shook his head at her lament.

“You complain like a child. If you’re bored, find something to occupy yourself.”

“I tried to help out, but Leliana has put the fear of death into everyone. No one will let me do anything physical. I was hoping that you might teach me about dreaming instead.”

Solas paused. He hadn’t anticipated her sharing his interest in studying the Fade. “Why would you want to learn that, da’len?”

“You’ve learned much about our people that way. I want to see our history for myself if I can.”

After hearing why she wanted to learn to better control her dreams, Solas felt conflicted. He wished more Dalish had the desire to study their real history rather than the myths they passed off as truth, but he also feared Nehn might discover his identity were she successful. Reasoning that it had taken him centuries to master the technique, he decided teaching Nehn simple things to improve her ability to shape her own dreams would be harmless and entertaining.

“It took years for me to master, and I’ve always had an affinity for the Fade,” he began and felt a tug at his heart when disappointment crossed Nehn’s face. 

“However, I would be happy to share some of what I know.” His eyes danced when he saw her face fill with excitement. 

“We’ll start simply. Study this room carefully. Then tonight reconstruct it in your dreams. Try to keep your dream self in this room all night.”

“Why?” Nehn questioned.

“I want to see if you can make your mind stay in one place in the Fade. In this world, you have a difficult time being still. If you want to be able to eventually delve deep into the Fade, you’ll have to learn to wait patiently for spirits to guide your journey.”

“And how will you know if I’m successful?” Nehn questioned.

“I’ll know because you’ll tell me tomorrow.”

“And if I fail?”

“Then you’ll try again until you can better control your mind. Now stop talking and study this room closely. The more details you absorb, the more interesting your time spent waiting in the Fade will be.”

“Is this how you were taught, hahren?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?” Solas said with a hint of annoyance.

“Only when I’m trying to learn.”

Solas smiled at her eagerness in spite of himself. 

Nehn spent the next thirty minutes quietly looking around the room and occasionally glancing at Solas. He could tell it was taking every ounce of her self control not to pepper him with questions, and he enjoyed the little jolt that went through him when their eyes would connect. When she was near - even when she was being obtuse, he felt lighter, less weighed down by his past. 

When Nehn wandered off after promising to report back to Solas in the morning, Cole stepped out of the shadows. 

“Hello, Cole,” Solas said without looking up from the notes he was writing.

“You’re different, brighter. You’re in both places,” Cole stated.

“I spend a great deal of time in the Fade. Perhaps that is what you sense.”

Cole walked around the room taking in what Nehn had studied, “She’s bright, too. You’ve noticed.”

Solas watched Cole move awkwardly around the room. Cole appeared to be a young human, but he spoke like a spirit. “Do you know what you are?” Solas asked.

“I’m Cole. The Lord Seeker said I was one thing, but I’m not that anymore. I’m here to help.”

“I see. Well, for as long as you choose to stay here, I am glad for your company.”

“You wish that she would stay, but then you remind yourself to push her away. Why?”

“It is complicated, Cole.”

“You think it has to be her or them. What if you didn’t have to chose?”

“But I do, Cole.”

“She might understand. She is soulful, sincere. I like her.”

“I like her, too.” Solas admitted.

“But that scares you. It would be easier if you could hate her. She doesn’t make herself easy to hate, though. She changes things, changes you, changes everything.”

“You’re quite perceptive. What sort of spirit are you?”

“I don’t know. I hear hurts and try to help,” Cole explained.

“Ah! You are a spirit of compassion. I didn’t consider it before because your kind is so rare. The Inquisition is fortunate to have you.”

“Thank you,” Cole said shyly. “Why can you always see me? The others can’t see me unless I let them.”

“I’m more familiar with spirits than most, so they are easier for me to sense. Also I pay attention. Most who walk in this world do not.”

******************  
Iron Bull waved to Nehn as she left Solas’ study. Nehn smiled broadly and went over to speak with the Qunari.

“What’s on your mind, Bull?”

“The Inquisition. There’s a problem,” Bull stated.

Nehn groaned. _Why is it that the Inquisition’s problems always get brought to me? I’m only here by virtue of a glowing hand._ “So is there another issue with Skyhold’s infrastructure that we hadn’t already identified?”

“Biggest problem for the Inquisition right now isn’t this fortress. It’s at the top. You’ve got no leader. No Inquisitor,” Bull pointed out.

“We have Cullen,” Nehn answered.

“He’s building an army not a movement. My people don’t pick leaders from the strongest, or the smartest, or even the most talented. We pick the ones who are willing to make the hard decisions and live with the consequences.”

“What’s your point?” Nehn asked.

“Cassandra and the Inquisition’s other advisors recognize that someone needs to be in charge. They’ve spent a good deal of time talking about it when they think no one is listening,” Bull reported. “They’re close to reaching the same conclusion I did the moment I heard you tell Cullen to evacuate Haven.”

“Oh, shit,” Nehn gasped.

“Yeah, Boss, I thought I’d give you a heads up, so you’re not completely blindsided when they come to you.”

“I don’t want that type of power,” Nehn argued.

“All the better for you to be the one to wield it. You won’t abuse your authority.”

“Fenedhis! I’m an elf. I can’t lead an offshoot of the human’s religion.”

“You’re an elf, huh? I guess that’s why you’re short. Of course, everyone seems short to me,” Bull teased. “Look, Boss, I don’t see anyone else that can get everyone pulling in the same direction. Things went to hell fast when you were getting over your injuries. A few words from you, and we were organized and moving here. You’re already the leader. Whatever title they give you is just a formality.”

Nehn sighed and then gave Bull a hug, “Thanks for the warning. I’d have completely lost my shit if this came at me out of the blue.”

“Hey, Boss, maybe that ‘Vint asshole will back down, and you’ll be off the hook.”

“Do you really think that’s possible?” Nehn questioned.

“It _could_ happen. It won’t, but it _could_ ,” Bull answered with a wink of his good eye.

Bull’s prediction proved accurate when later that day Nehn happened upon Cassandra, Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine standing in a circle in the courtyard whispering conspiratorially. Nehn tried to quickly head to another part of the keep, but Cassandra was at her side so fast that Nehn briefly wondered if the Seeker had the ability to fade step.

As Cassandra guided Nehn through the courtyard, she outlined what the Inquisition had already accomplished and pointed out Nehn’s part in all of it. While the Seeker was talking, Josephine and Cullen were ushering in Inquisition soldiers and supporters into the courtyard to see their leader appointed. If Bull hadn’t warned her, Nehn would have been completely overwhelmed by what was happening and would have likely caused a scene with an indignant refusal. Instead, Bull had given her just enough of a heads up that she could process and adjust to the change she was facing.

Before Cassandra even asked her officially to become Inquisitor, Nehn had decided to accept the position. It was the right thing to do even if she didn’t want the responsibility. Once before she had accepted a role - that of wife and mother - out of a sense of duty, and that choice had resulted in the greatest happiness and love she’d ever known. Heading the Inquisition might not end in a similar result, but Nehn sensed that surrendering herself in service to others was a path to making peace with all that had happened to her at the Conclave. 

Cassandra led Nehn up the steps toward the main keep and stopped at a landing halfway to the top. Leliana stood there silently holding a ceremonial sword across the palms of her hands as Cassandra officially asked Nehn to be their leader. While saying a prayer to Sylaise to help her stay true to the Vir Atish’an, Nehn took hold of the sword that Leliana offered. The sword which had dragons entwined on its cross-guard was enormous, and Nehn wondered if she’d be able to lift it. _They weren’t thinking their leader would be an elf with a bad shoulder when they had this forged._

As Nehn held the sword at her side, Cassandra called out to Cullen and Josephine who stood at the front of the assembled crowd. “Have our people been told?” Cassandra shouted toward the crowd.

Josephine responded enthusiastically, “They have, and soon the world.”

Cassandra called out again, “Commander, will they follow?”

Cullen turned toward his soldiers and the assembled people with fierce determination in his eyes and questioned, “Inquisition! Will you follow? " The crowd shouted their assent and raised their fists.

Cullen called out again, “Will you fight?” The crowds’ response was a deafening roar as Cullen held up both of his hands. 

Cullen shouted, “Will we triumph?” while the people continued to cheer. Then turning toward Nehn and drawing his sword, he extended it toward her and said, “Your leader! Your Herald! Your Inquisitor.”

_When did he get so damn sexy?_ Nehn thought then corrected herself for having such ideas about a human much less one that was now a subordinate. 

Then it occurred to Nehn that the crowd was expecting some sort of response from her. Unsure of what else she could do and wanting desperately to avoid giving a speech, Nehn summoned her will and lifted her ceremonial sword high into the air while thanking the gods for giving her the wisdom to use a levitating spell to help keep it aloft. And with that gesture, the Inquisition had its leader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken some slight liberties with canon as Bull's leadership conversation occurs at Haven in game, and at that point he doesn't know who he thinks should lead. I needed a way for Nehn to have a chance to come around to the idea of being Inquisitor because her off the cuff reactions to big changes are rarely tactful or appropriate.
> 
> Also I'm adding my own twist as to how Nehn will eventually end up encountering Solas in the Fade, so bear with me on that slight canon divergence as it plays out. I just can't comprehend how a mage wouldn't recognize they were in the Fade, so I wanted to tweak that plot point a bit.
> 
> Nehn's thought about Cullen being sexy was pretty much my own. I'd been "meh" about Cullen through DAO, DA2, and DAI until that point, but that scene had me hopping on the Cullen train.


	22. Chapter 22

Nehn lowered the giant ceremonial sword and whispered out of the corner of her mouth to Cassandra, “So what do I do now?”

“What you have already been doing ... leading,” Cassandra answered while gesturing that Nehn could go inside the keep. 

Nehn waved to the crowd and then ascended the stairs to enter the main hall. Her advisors followed behind her. “There is much for us to discuss. We’ve set up a temporary war room in Josephine’s office while repairs are made to the room we will later use. Please join us, Inquisitor,” Leliana said taking the opportunity to call Nehn by her new title for the first time.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Cassandra?” Nehn questioned.

“Cassandra has elected to remove herself from the war council. She wanted there to be no question about who was in charge,” Josephine explained.

“She also hates meetings and was looking for an opportunity to get out of attending them,” Leliana added with a wry smile. 

“Smart woman,” Nehn commented.

As they gathered around the desk in Josephine’s office, each of Nehn’s advisors described various problems and opportunities that were before the Inquisition. Most were related to renovating Skyhold, rebuilding their numbers, and reaching out to potential allies. Nehn rubber stamped the recommendations of the presenting advisor on those requests. She knew the more contentious decisions would be marked by all three advisors arguing for their particular solution with her making the final choice. It was the same procedure they had followed for months before, but now everyone had formally acknowledged what had already been happening - Nehn made the Inquisition’s tough decisions. She was its leader.

The first actionable item that caused real debate between her advisors was how to best bring an arcanist to Skyhold to serve as a runecrafter and master crafter. Nehn smiled thinking that Garel would be pleased that her first important call as Inquisitor would be related to acquiring a craftsperson. All advisors wanted the same woman, a dwarf named Dagna, for the job, but each thought they had the better idea for ensuring her safe passage to Skyhold as her prodigious skills had brought assassins’ attentions to her. Since their chief concern was avoiding hired killers attacking Dagna, Nehn directed Leliana to use her agents to protect the dwarf. _Fight fire with fire..._

With that decided Leliana handed Nehn a letter. “We received this today. It was sent by raven through one of the agents that I sent to your clan,” Leliana explained while Nehn read the letter which was from Keeper Deshanna. Her clan was being attacked by well-armed bandits and needed help defending themselves. Nehn’s head swirled with the information that her family and friends were in danger. 

“Do you think Corypheus or his allies are targeting my clan and making it seem like bandit attacks?” Nehn asked.

“No simple bandits would attack a Dalish camp with such force,” Cullen answered. 

“I agree,” Leliana said. “These seem too powerful to be mere bandits.”

“Recommendations?” Nehn questioned. 

Josephine suggested seeking the help of a nearby noble. Nehn nearly laughed at the idea. “No. Nobles are rarely allies of the Dalish. I would expect that he’d put on a show of trying to help while sitting on his hands and watching my clan get scattered. Cullen? Leliana?”

Leliana offered to send her skirmishers while Cullen suggested using his troops. “Cullen, handle it. Once the clan is safe, I want my children and any others that wish to join them escorted back to Skyhold,” Nehn ordered and then said, “On second thought, Sylvia has taken her vallaslin. She is an adult. If she wishes to stay with the clan, she may. Falon and Asha have no choice but to come here.”

“Yes, Inquisitor,” Cullen replied.

“Your children? Three no less?” Leliana asked with an arched eyebrow. “And the Commander knew about them but neglected to share the information... interesting.”

Nehn smiled mischievously, “I’ve noticed you have many elves among your spies, Leliana. Surely, that means you recognized our ability to keep secrets.”

Leliana regarded her cooly and then said, “I underestimated you and your clan. I will not do so again, Inquisitor.”

“If it is any consolation, Leliana, I only found out about the Inquisitor’s family after Haven fell. I thought it more her place than mine to share the information.” Cullen explained.

“How old are your children? Shall I acquire tutors, nannies, and playmates for them?” Josephine questioned excitedly. Nehn could see the ambassador trying to make nobles out of her children already. That was something she would not allow. Her children were Dalish and would be raised as such.

“Josephine, you needn’t concern yourself with locating tutors or nannies, and if my children want friends, they will find their own. Raising my children is my concern - not the Inquisition’s. I would appreciate it if they could be given lodging near mine, however.”

“To answer your other question, Sylvia is eighteen. If she comes, she will probably gravitate to the stables and kennels. Falon is fourteen. He has yet to choose between becoming a hunter or a craftsman. Asha is nine and a mage. One day she will serve as my First and then later as Clan Lavellan’s Keeper gods willing.”

“I can see that you’re doing the math on their ages. Sylvia and Falon were my husband’s from his first marriage. I have raised them since Sylvia was six and Falon was two. I consider them no differently than Asha who shares my blood.” 

Nehn wanted to stop talking about her family as speaking of them made the danger they were facing seem too palpable. She opted to turn the conversation to one last matter of Inquisition business. “Before the battle at Haven, Cassandra mentioned that I lacked proper battlefield awareness and that I would benefit from training with warriors and rogues. She recommended sparring with multiple combatants at a time. Leliana and Cullen, is that something you could coordinate?”

“Certainly, as soon as the healers give you clearance to resume physical activity,” Cullen replied.

“Whether they think it wise or not, I will have to return to the field soon. I would like to do that well-prepared. Oh, and one more request... could you make sure at least some of the combatants are elves?”

“Yes, but I hardly see why that matters,” Cullen answered.

Leliana had a devilish grin when she said, “Oh, but I do, Commander. Tell me, Inquisitor, do you prefer blonds, brunettes, or redheads?”

“What does hair color have to do with fighting ability?” Cullen queried with aggravation.

“Very little, Commander, but neither does being an elf,” Leliana said while giving Nehn a wink.

**************************

Sera, Dorian, Bull and Varric caught up with Nehn as soon as she left the war room.

“Time to celebrate, Your Inquisitorialness,” Varric teased.

“And remind you that you’re still just people even if you have a fancy title now,” Sera added.

“I’m not really a big drinker,” Nehn cautioned.

“That’s fine, Boss. That’ll make it cheaper to get you shitfaced,” Bull said.

“I’m not a very dignified drunk,” Nehn hesitated.

“Now you’ve made it absolutely certain that we’re going to get you plastered,” Dorian razzed.

“We don’t have a tavern at Skyhold yet, but I found an empty tower that will serve our purposes,” Varric mentioned, “Come on, Sassy, it’ll be fun. We’ll play some Wicked Grace. I’ll even spot you the coin.”

“I do like that game,” Nehn said with a smile.

A few hours and several bottles of wine later, Nehn and her friends were sloshed but still trying to play cards. Nehn kept blurting out her hand while Sera had nodded off. Finally, Varric declared that they were too drunk to gamble and should switch to just talking.

Nehn complained that she was cold, and then grumbled that she should have never returned Cullen’s coat. “I liked that coat. It was soft and warm and smelled Culleny. Either that or I need to convince Solas to teach me how he can walk around in the mountains barefoot and not get frostbite.”

“Here’s my guess,” Dorian slurred, “.... magic.”

“I was supposed to practice dreaming tonight,” Nehn said the subject of magic bringing her conversation with Solas to mind.

“I thought dreaming was something that people and elves just did. I didn’t realize that it takes practice,” Varric commented.

“No, this is different. I’m trying to learn to control my dreaming, so I can delve into the Fade for myself rather than having to rely on the smug elf.”

“What do you mean, Boss?” Bull asked.

“I hate having to ask Solas for advice. He can be so condescending. It’s a shame that he isn’t nicer. He’s so smart and has a great ass,” Nehn admitted.

“Wait a second... you’ve been checking out that hobo apostate’s backside?” Dorian asked.

“I check out everyone’s ass. His just looks particularly squeezable. Although that flappy tunic he wears makes it tough to see,” Nehn explained with drunken sincerity.

Varric and Bull fell out laughing while Dorian looked at Nehn in horror. 

“You have got to raise your standards, Nehn,” Dorian begged.

“Well, Solas spends a good deal of his own time checking out your ass, so I’d call it even.” Bull said as he wiped tears that had formed from laughing so hard off his face.

“Of course he does. I have a terrific butt,” Nehn replied and then stood up and turned around to prove her point. 

“Maker, we can never let her drink again,” Dorian declared.

“I gotta say I’m enjoying seeing this side of Sassy,” Varric said fully intending the double entendre.

“Really? I would have thought you were more of a breast man, Varric,” Nehn said as she plopped down and sat cross legged.

“Shit! You didn’t just say that, Boss,” Bull said while slapping his knee.

Nehn looked confused and turned to Varric, “Am I wrong?”

“I can’t believe I’m admitting this to you, but you are correct,” Varric conceded.

“It’s my job to be right about these things,” Nehn said seriously.

“It’s your job to know what turns people on? I must have missed something about the Dalish,” Bull stated.

“I’m a First which means I’ll be a Keeper someday. I’ll have to arrange matches for the clan. It’s important for me to notice preferences. It would be sad to pair Varric with a flat chested girl. Just like I wouldn’t put you with someone with a low pain tolerance.”

“You’re as good as a Ben-Hassrath!” Bull enthused.

“I’m good at my job, or I would be if I were back with my clan,” Nehn said as her playful mood drained away.

“You miss them. Don’t you?” Dorian asked.

“Yes, and I’m worried. My Keeper wrote that the clan is being attacked. I had to decide what to do about it today in the war room. If I chose wrong...”

“Don’t go down that road, Sassy. Hawke did that to himself all the time - especially when he was drinking. You make the best choices you can with the information you have. That’s all any of us can do,” Varric advised.

“Boss, you’ve probably had enough tonight. Let me walk Sera and you back to your tents,” Bull offered.

“I’ll go with you. You’re going to have to carry Sera. She’s out cold,” Varric pointed out.

“I don’t have a tent anymore. I got an upgrade with the new title. My room is over Josie’s office and what will be the war room. I haven’t been inside it yet. We should all go check it out together,” Nehn said.

“I’ll do that another time,” Bull said while tossing Sera over his shoulder, “I’m going to get her tucked in and then pay a visit to the kitchens.”

“Hungry already?” Nehn questioned.

“No, I’ve just become well acquainted with some of the kitchen staff,” Bull said with a wink.

“Bull, you remind me of my best friend Ayla. She slept with nearly every person in the clan until she found her vhenan.”

“Vhenan?” Bull asked.

“It’s elven for heart. Your _vhenan_ holds a piece of your heart inside their own,” Nehn explained.

“Qunari have a similar idea except we call them _kadan_. Kadan applies to more than just lovers, though. Good friends can be kadan.“

“That’s lovely and all, but I want to see your new room,” Dorian interrupted. “It better not be much nicer than the room they’ve given me.”

“Don’t complain, ‘Vint. Some of us are still in tents because we aren’t prissy mages with bare shoulders,” Bull growled.

“No need to start snarling because your buzz is wearing off,” Varric cajoled. “Sassy, Sparkler, let’s go check out the new digs.” 

“Nehn, Varric, and Dorian were stumbling across the courtyard of the main keep when they ran into Cullen.

“You’re all three sheets to the wind,” Cullen commented.

“And you’re up ridiculously late for someone who isn’t,” Dorian threw back. “We’re on our way to check out Nehn’s new room. Care to join us?”

“I don’t think that would be appropriate,” Cullen declined.

“We’re going to look at the room not have an orgy, Curly. Come on,” Varric pressed.

Cullen grabbed the back of his neck then followed the zigzagging trail of the three drunks in front of him. After Nehn struggled to open the lock on her door, Cullen stepped in to assist and then made sure no one went over the railing in the long stairwell that led to Nehn’s room.

“This is oversized just like the sword,” Nehn said when she first saw the room.

“I’m going to file a complaint tomorrow. At the very least, I deserve bed linens as nice as these,” Dorian said enviously.

“Nice room, Sassy. Quite an upgrade from an aravel,” Varric teased.

“I’d rather have an aravel,” Nehn whispered but only Cullen heard her.

“We should let you get some rest, Inquisitor,” Cullen said while hoping Varric and Dorian would catch the hint and leave with him.

“That’s a good idea, Commander. I’m supposed to dream of rotundas tonight,” Nehn said while stumbling into bed.

Cullen wrinkled his brow but didn’t ask for clarification because Nehn was already asleep.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but significant update today. Happy Mother's Day to those in the U.S.

Nehn slipped into the Fade her quick descent into dreams aided by the night’s overindulgence in alcohol. _Rotunda... rotunda..._ she thought and constructed the room around her. _Smooth plastered walls, outlines of murals, two desks, a drop cloth covered chaise, a platform, three doorways, library and rookery above, books, papers, crystal shards, smells of lamp oil, musty books, and bird droppings (faint but evident)_ As she imagined, the room appeared around her. Walking around to check her work, Nehn tweaked details and then sat on top of Solas’ desk at the center of the room.

“So are you going to merely observe, or do we get to talk?” she called up to the seemingly empty platform.

Solas had been watching Nehn’s progress - taking care to manipulate the Fade so Nehn wouldn’t be able to sense his presence. That was what he thought he was doing at least - he had obviously not completed the task well. Uncloaking himself, he said, “Impressive. I was being quite deliberate in trying to avoid detection. May I ask how you knew I was here?”

“Your magic and aura are distinctive,” Nehn answered.

Solas jumped down from the scaffolding and approached Nehn. “And I thought you were just a very intuitive person. How long have you had this particular ability - seeing auras?”

“For as long as I can remember, but it isn’t so much _seeing_ as _feeling_ them,” Nehn replied. “Deshanna has the same talent. It is why she chose me for her First.”

“All elves once had similar abilities - an awareness of the magic around them and in others. Sadly, that gift along with so much else has been lost to all but a few now,” Solas lamented. “Are you always able to see Cole as well?”

“I don’t know if I _always_ see him, but I knew he was watching us earlier today,” Nehn replied.

“And you didn’t acknowledge him. Why?”

“He wasn’t wanting to be seen, and he scares me a little. He’s not really a person. You know that - right?”

Solas was again stunned by Nehn. _I have got to stop underestimating her. She is obviously much more than she appears to be. No wonder she chooses to follow Sylaise. The hearthkeeper was once as unpredictable and powerful as fire itself._ “I am aware that Cole is more of a spirit than a human, but I would argue that makes him no less of a person.”

“You think spirits are people?”

“Certainly. I have built many lasting friendships with them. Spirits of Wisdom and Purpose have taught and guided me in the Fade. Each has their own personality and way of expression, yet because they exist without form as we understand it, some argue that they aren’t people. Are you defined by your hair color and vallaslin rather than your kindness and honesty? Is Cassandra defined by her cheekbones and not her faith? Varric his chest hair and not his wit?”

Nehn was shocked at Solas’ words. _He thinks I’m kind and honest. I thought he disliked me._ Wanting to hide her reaction and excitement about that revelation, Nehn quipped, “Varric’s chest hair is pretty defining, but I understand your point. I’m more taken aback that you’ve made friends with spirits.”

“Anyone who can dream has the potential. Few ever try.” 

“Maybe you could introduce me to some of them another time.”

“Why?” Solas asked suddenly wary.

“You can learn a lot about a person by getting to know their friends. I’d like to know you better, and you’re quite cagey.”

“And you are refreshingly straightforward even if you are hard to predict,” Solas chuckled.

“Why keep trying to guess what I’m thinking or going to do? You could just ask,” Nehn said while hopping down from the desk and moving closer to where Solas stood.

Feeling intoxicated by her proximity, Solas stepped away and began walking around the room examining Nehn’s creation. “The details you chose to include or ignore - fascinating. Tell me - have you always had such vivid dreams?”

“No, the changes to my dreams came with this,” Nehn said holding up her marked hand. “Can you help me navigate the Fade better? The intensity of my dreams has been startling and at times terrifying. I’d like to feel more in control.” 

_Of course ... she is tied to my magic by the mark. Little wonder she learns the spells I show her so quickly. I should have recognized that earlier._ Solas thought as a true smile appeared on his face. “Yes, I can teach you. In fact, I would be glad to do so.”

“You’re less guarded here,” Nehn pointed out.

“Things have always been easier for me in the Fade,” Solas answered.  

“Doesn’t working to control your dreams make you tired? Because I’m finding holding this illusion together exhausting.”

“Where is your mind wanting to go?”

“Home. Always home,” Nehn answered and then teared up. “Fenedhis! You’d think I wouldn’t cry in my own dreams.”

Solas was surprisingly tender when he wiped a tear from Nehn’s cheek. “So go there then. You’ve more than demonstrated your dreamer capabilities. We can discuss things tomorrow when you awaken and decide on how to proceed with your lessons. Until then, rest well.”


	24. Chapter 24

Nehn was up before dawn with a slight headache and an upset stomach the only consequences of her exploits the night before. _I got off easy with as much as I drank._ Dressing in the simple, beige leathers she had acquired from one of Skyhold’s merchants, Nehn put her hair into a pony tail at the nape of her neck and then headed out to the courtyard. As she passed guards and servants, they greeted her with a perfunctory “Inquisitor” which thrilled Nehn to no end because no one was calling her “Herald.” _The change in title alone will be worth the increased paperwork and meetings._

Early mornings at Skyhold were quiet, and Nehn typically relished meditating and watching the sunrise from the battlements. The presence of a lone figure outlined by lamplight and hunched over a makeshift table in the lower courtyard made Nehn redirect her course. Cullen was already up and had been working for some time if the amount of papers around him were any indicator.

“Do you ever sleep, Cullen?” she asked half-joking and half-concerned. He always looked tired but had developed even darker rings under his eyes in the aftermath of Haven.

“Not if I can avoid it,” he replied with a sigh.

The set of his face as he answered her made Nehn worried. He really did try to avoid sleeping. She guessed that he might be plagued with nightmares - it was a common enough problem with soldiers. From what Varric had said of his time in Kirkwall, Cullen had seen a great deal. Nehn wished there were some spell that would erase bad memories while leaving the lessons learned from them. Unfortunately, the price of wisdom and experience was often reliving the events that caused them.

Nehn touched his forearm to get his full attention, and Cullen seemed shocked by the contact. _Probably not the best idea for a mage to touch a templar - even an ex-templar - without warning, genius._ “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just... well, if there is any way I can help, you have only to ask.”

Cullen shook his head in disbelief. “You’ve already agreed to lead the Inquisition. You’re doing more than enough, Inquisitor.”

“I’d prefer you call me Nehn, but I have to admit I like my new title. No one has called me Herald today.”

Cullen smiled widely at her weak jest, and Nehn’s mouth dropped open just a little bit. _Mythal’s mercy, he’s always a handsome man, but when he smiles... The Dread Wolf might take me for it, but I’d give my vallaslin to see what’s beneath all that plate he wears._

Nehn’s face turned bright red at the trajectory of her thoughts, and the intensity of Cullen’s gaze. Looking off at the horizon, she said, “It’s a nice morning.” _Smooth, Nehn, you’re lucky you agreed to an arranged marriage if that’s the best you can do on your own._

Cullen continued to stare at her and said, “Well, it certainly is now,” while sharing a slight smirk.

_Am I still drunk or did he just flirt with me? Business, Nehn, concentrate on business not his eyes. What color are they? Brown but also a little gold - like honey. Nehn, you’re staring. Stop staring and say something!!!_ “I wanted to thank you for all that you’ve done here at Skyhold already. I’m glad that you ... that so many people made it here safely.” _Walk away before you can say anything else so stupid. Smile, wave, and go._

Nehn turned to leave, but Cullen whispered, “You stayed behind. You could have... I will not allow the events of Haven to happen again. You have my word.”

“Thank you, Cullen, but I don’t want you blaming yourself or anyone else for what happened at Haven,” Nehn answered. Cullen wrinkled his brow in response, and Nehn said sincerely, “I mean it. No one could have anticipated that there would be a dragon.” Nehn could tell Cullen was unconvinced, but she opted to drop the matter.

“If I wanted to find a bow, where would I get one?”

“A bow?” Cullen questioned with confusion evident in his voice

“If all goes well, my son Falon will be here in less than two months. I’m sorely out of practice, and I don’t want to look bad.”

“You shoot arrows with your son?” Cullen said with obvious interest and a twinkle in his eye.

“Yes. He’s a very good archer. To be honest, I am decent at it as well, or at least I _was_. I’m worried my shoulder injury and lack of practice may have changed that.”

“I’ll take you to the armory, and see you outfitted if you’ll let me watch you in action. A mage with a bow... I’d never thought to see it.”

“Cullen, mages are people. We have hobbies. We don’t just shoot fire out our fingers all day. I thought you lived most of your life around mages. Did you never get to know them?”

“Not really. We were encouraged to maintain a certain distance from our charges. We rarely spoke to mages in fact.”

“I hope you are encouraging our templars to act differently. The mages are our allies not our prisoners.”

“I am. Old habits are deeply ingrained, but I’ve noticed that relationships are improving,” Cullen said while opening the door to the armory for Nehn.

“So it seems,” Nehn said as she brushed against him to go through the door.

Nehn spent a good deal of time selecting her bow. She carefully examined them, checking the balance and tension as well as aesthetics. She finally settled on a long bow made out of sylvanwood.

“You’re rather picky about weaponry,” Cullen observed.

“It comes from having been married to a master craftsman I guess. Garel taught me how to recognize quality. Varric makes fun of me for spending so much coin on armor and weapons for my team, but I appreciate and understand the difference good gear can make.”

“How did he die?” Cullen questioned and then felt awful. “I’m sorry that wasn’t polite. Ignore me.”

“I don’t mind. The simple answer is that he just did. One minute, we were sitting around the campfire laughing with friends. The next he was gone. As best I could tell, a vessel burst in his brain. There was nothing I could do. I have never felt so powerless in my life,” Nehn said while tears welled in her eyes. “Anyway, let’s check out how bad my aim has become.”

Nehn rolled her shoulder and prepared to draw her bow then stopped. Putting the bow down, she touched her shoulder and sent some healing energy into it. Cullen flinched at her use of magic, and Nehn noticed his discomfort. “Just a healing spell. Nothing scary. I’m not planning on becoming an abomination today.”

“I apologize. I react instinctively toward magic - especially when I don't anticipate its use,” Cullen replied.

“I can sympathize. I have to keep myself from throwing up a barrier every time you rest your hand on your sword hilt - which you do all the time, by the way. See you just did it again. Unnerving.”

“I’m sorry. I would never mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine, Cullen. Now be quiet. I need to concentrate to get this shot off.”

Nehn lined up the target and fired. “Not quite a bullseye, but not terrible for a new bow and rusty technique.”

Nehn ran through her quiver and then went to retrieve her arrows from the target when she heard Varric speaking. “You’re not trying to put me out of a job - are you, Sassy?”

“I can’t pick a lock, and you refuse to teach me how. Your position is secure,” Nehn joked.

“She makes light of that, but I know she’d never take another rogue along with her if she could handle locks,” Varric said in a low voice to Cullen. “She needs Sera and me - even if it is just to lighten the mood.”

“So are you going to challenge me to a shoot off, Varric?” Nehn asked.

“It wouldn’t be fair,” Varric answered.

“I guess you’re right. Those that rely on crossbows aren’t really archers,” Nehn threw back.

“Sassy, quit your trash talking, and set your terms. You’re on,” Varric growled while taking Bianca off his shoulder.

“I can tell this is going to get ugly, so I’ll take my leave. I enjoyed our talk this morning, Inquisitor. We should do it more often,” Cullen said and then looked sheepish.

“I’d like that, Cullen.” Nehn replied and then bit her lip to keep from saying something foolish like, “How about later tonight?”

As Cullen strode away, Varric looked between Nehn and the retreating Commander. “You’ve got a thing for Curly,” he announced gleefully.

Nehn put her bow down. “You’re just trying to distract me from making a good shot. It won’t work.” Raising her bow and firing, she hit the center of the target. “Besides, I have a crush of some kind on nearly every man I know. You included. How could I resist that voice and keen wit?”

“Now you’re trying to distract me,” Varric teased then took his shot. “And evidently it worked because that one went wide. Shit.”

Nehn and Varric continued for awhile until it became evident that although Nehn was a good archer she wouldn’t actually be able to best him. 

“That was fun, Sassy, and I look forward to your having to take care of my horse the next time we leave Skyhold. I tried to warn you it wouldn’t be a fair competition.”

“Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you, Varric,” Nehn said with a wink before going up the stairs into the main keep with an exaggerated sway to her walk. Varric watched her disappear into the Great Hall. Then putting his crossbow back on his shoulder, he said, “Bianca, baby, that one could give you some trouble.”

Nehn turned the corner and went into Solas’ study. He was painting a mural but turned toward her when she entered. “Rest well?” he asked with a small grin. Nehn sat on top of his desk and crossed her legs. “I did. I stopped by here earlier, but you must have still been asleep. So what’s our plan, hahren?”

“Tonight I want you to try to find me in the Fade, da’len.”

“Is that even possible? The Fade is limitless. How will I know where to look?”

“The Fade is shaped by our thoughts. You need only to concentrate on the person you wish to find. It is similar to how you reconstructed this room.”

“But how will I know it’s you and not a spirit pretending to be you?”

“An excellent question. Some spirits -particularly the more aggressive ones- are very good mimics. Still even the best replica is flawed. You must train yourself to reliably detect counterfeits.”

“You mean demons when you say aggressive spirits,” Nehn said warily. “What if they try to possess me?”

“A spirit cannot possess an unwilling host. Your will is strong and your mind keen. I would not suggest trying this if I was concerned that you might become an abomination as a result, da’len.”

“Still how will I know it’s you, Solas?”

“Your ability to sense auras will help tremendously. A spirit’s aura would not match my own.”

“I just don’t want to end up as a desire demon’s late night snack,” Nehn explained.

“A _desire_ demon - interesting,” Solas mused as Nehn pretended to study one of his paintings while inwardly chiding herself for speaking so carelessly. Solas missed nothing. 

“See you tonight then,” Nehn said as she slid out of the room and went upstairs to visit Dorian.

“I believe in my excitement to get you drunk last night I forgot to actually congratulate you on your new position. Inquisitor - a quite impressive title,” Dorian effused.

“It’s much better than ‘Herald’ if I never hear that again, it will be too soon.”

“I doubt you’ll be rid of it so easily, but you’ll probably hear it less. So what is our lovely Inquisitor doing this morning?”

Nehn knew Dorian’s preferences weren’t for women even if he hadn’t said as much, but she still enjoyed his feigned advances. She also enjoyed having him as safe outlet for her own urge to flirt. “Based on the number of men I’ve hit on this morning, I’d guess I’m ovulating.”

“Too much information - especially at this hour. If that’s the case, though, why aren’t you trying to seduce me? I’m clearly the most handsome man in Skyhold. Also the best dressed, wittiest...”

Nehn merely gave Dorian a knowing look, and he waved her off. “Well, fine if you want to be a stickler about it, Cullen may have me for most handsome - if you go for that rugged, weathered look rather than my finely chiseled and utterly flawless features.”

Nehn snorted. “I’m sorry, Dorian. Would you like me to throw myself at you now?”

“It doesn’t count if I have to remind you to do it,” Dorian said as if he were miffed which he clearly wasn’t. 

There was only one chair in Dorian’s alcove, and he was in it. Nehn sat down in his lap and pressed her nose to his neck. “This behavior will start rumors of the evil Tevinter controlling the wayward elf.”

“Give me just a little bit longer, and I’ll behave,” Nehn promised while cuddling closer to him.

“If I may ask, what are you doing specifically? Is this a Dalish thing - hopping into someone’s lap and then nuzzling their neck?”

“No, it’s more a me thing. I just missed the scent of a man,” she said while taking a deep breath in before getting out of Dorian’s lap. “Thank you. I’ve gotten a safe dose. If I did that to anyone else, they might get ideas.”

“Use me for my manly scent and then toss me aside. I’m wounded - truly,” Dorian said with a flourish.

“You’ll recover.”

“Since I’ve been so used, I must ask. How long has little Nehn’s dry spell lasted?” At that question, Nehn’s playful mood dissipated, and Dorian quickly added, “No, no tears allowed. Library rules.”

She gave a weak laugh and then quietly replied, “Two years. Garel was my vhenan. I don’t know if I could or would even want to love someone else.”

“So do Dalish believe you can only have one love in a lifetime?” Dorian asked.

“No, I’m just not sure I deserve more than that. He was so good to me, Dorian. I don’t want to diminish that - especially with our having children.”

“An odd thought coming from a second wife. I assume he cared for his first wife. If he could find love again, why not you?”

“Fenedhis! You sound like Ayla and Deshanna. I’m not ready to let him go. What if I do, and there’s no one for me?”

“What if you do, and there is?” Dorian argued back. “At the very least, you should look into a one-night stand. It would take the edge off, and you might not feel the need to sniff random Tevinters.”

“You aren’t random, and I’m not really a love them and leave them kind of girl.”

“You should consider a fling at least. Just something to get those cute little elven toes of yours wet. You don’t have to find your great love. You just need a good lay.”

“It is eerie how you seem to be channeling my friend Ayla. Is that a Tevinter mage thing?”

“No, it’s just a common sense thing. I hope Ayla comes to Skyhold sometime. We’d probably get along smashingly.”


	25. Chapter 25

The air was thick and Nehn felt sweat cling to her as she moved through the forest. Its floor was carpeted with leaves and ferns. Nehn forced herself to concentrate as she walked past a toppled marble statue of an owl. _Is that one of Andruil’s messengers? Don’t get distracted. Keep looking._ Nehn jumped a bit as a colorful bird flew past her and lit on the statue’s base. It twisted its head to observe her then made a soft cooing sound before flying off. 

Nehn was frustrated with what amounted to playing hide and seek with Solas in the Fade. She had found him quickly the first time, so he suggested making it more difficult. Now she was lost in a forest with scattered elven ruins. He was near - she could feel him if she concentrated, but the scenery around her was too entrancing. She wanted to stop and try to read the elven glyphs on the buildings and statues she encountered, but every time she let herself do that, he slipped away.

_That sneaky, arrogant elf is probably off laughing at how long this is taking._ she thought and then nearly fell backwards when she walked directly into Solas. “That took longer, but you did well, da’len. What were you thinking right before I appeared? Your thoughts didn’t pull me to you strongly until the last few moments.”

Nehn sighed, “I was thinking you were sneaky, arrogant, and likely enjoying a good laugh at my expense.”

Rather than being angry or offended at her words, Solas chuckled. “Excellent.”

“Excellent? I pretty much just called you a jerk to your face.”

“No, you said I was sneaky and arrogant which I most certainly am. You found me because you started to list character traits rather than just thinking about my physical form. That is what made your call strong enough for the Fade to react to it,” Solas explained. 

“I just need to think of insults to find someone in the Fade?” Nehn asked with a hint of disbelief.

“Positive attributes work just as well. The key is considering what defines someone’s personality, their being. For instance, you might think of honor and faith if seeking out Cassandra. I would caution against trying to find your friends in the Fade, however. Most would be unnerved by your presence or embarrassed for you to see into their dreams. You are welcome to call to me, though. I actually prefer conversing here.”

“So things in the Fade are more defined by the ideas and intentions behind them than the physical traits they possess in reality.” Nehn clarified.

“Exactly. You are a quick study, da’len.”

“What is this place meant to represent? This forest?”

“This is a memory of the Arlathan Forest which is located far to the north. Elvehnan was a large empire, and this forest once held special significance to elves. I brought my thoughts here because I thought you would find it pleasing ... and distracting.”

“So I was right - you were trying to trick me!”

“Of course. How are you to learn if not presented with a challenge?” Solas said with an arched eyebrow. “I meant to bewilder you with this location, but I also intended to please. Is this forest not beautiful?”

“Breathtaking actually,” Nehn admitted and then held out her marked hand. “Walk with me?”

Solas eyed her hand warily. “I am not sure that would be wise. We should focus on your lessons.”

“Please?” Nehn said while keeping her hand extended.

Solas shook his head as if to say no, but then reached out and took her hand. “We will regret this,” he said as their fingers laced together and the mark on her hand glowed brighter.

“I want to hold on to you, so you can’t wander off from me, hahren. It won’t be long before I wake up, and I want to learn as much about this place as I can before then. Please teach me about it.”

“How could I deny such a honest request?” Solas said and then began to share the region’s rich history while marveling at the tiny elven woman beside him that had somehow managed to draw his heart into hers. Wisdom’s words about choosing between love and duty rang in his ears, but he told himself _Just a little longer. Let me be with her just a little longer. Then I will return to my duty._

*********************

Nehn was slightly concerned that her dreamer activities would make her tired, but she had woken up feeling well rested. Her thoughts turned to the time she had spent speaking with Solas in the forest. He was animated and seemed almost happy when he shared stories and walked with her hand in hand. It was a stark contrast to how pensive and reserved he was outside the Fade. 

Examining her marked hand, a smile crept across Nehn’s face as she thought about how his hand felt in her own. Then she got philosophical. _If we held hands in the Fade, have we really held hands or only imagined doing it? I wonder if his hand would feel different here?_ Glancing out the window, Nehn realized she needed to get dressed quickly if she wanted to see the sun rise. 

Nehn made it to her favorite spot on the battlements just as the sun’s first rays appeared on the horizon. As she watched the dawn, Nehn meditated on the Vir Atish’an and said prayers to Mythal and Sylaise to protect her children and Falon’Din to guide Garel in the Beyond. Thinking of Garel, she hoped his soul had found Selah’s in the Beyond. The idea of him being alone there bothered her more than the thought of him being reunited with his first wife. If anything, their being together gave Nehn hope that she might someday be with him as well. She wasn’t quite sure how sharing him with Selah would work, but things were different in the Beyond. It would be fine.

Once the sun had made it past the horizon, Nehn closed her eyes and focused on her breathing before summoning a healing aura. Allowing its soothing power to absorb into her body, Nehn felt all her minor aches and pains slip away while her mind gained increased clarity. She continued to breathe deeply and then conjured a calming aura which eased the ever-present anxiety that she always felt. After a quick prayer to the Creators for wisdom, she stood and smiled when she saw Cullen approaching.

“Inquisitor, Leliana and I have arranged for your first sparring session later this morning. I’ve selected some templars, and she has provided a few of her best rogues. We’ve also asked several mages to attend and will have them protect the combatants from your magic with barriers,” Cullen reported.

“Wait... you’re going to let me cast? I can dial back the intensity of my spells, Commander, but fire is fire. I don’t want to injure anyone,” Nehn said.

“I’m more concerned about how you will do against the templars. I know the Red Templars you’ve encountered rarely dispel magic, but my men will not hesitate to do so. In fact, I’m encouraging them to use their templar abilities against you - excluding the holy smite of course.”

“If a holy smite is what it sounds like, then I’m glad they won’t be using it. I thought sparring was meant to be a low risk way to train. This sounds dangerous.”

“It is _lower_ risk. Everyone will be using blunted weapons and trying not to maim,” Cullen explained.

“Not being maimed sounds good. Are you going to join in with the other templars?”

“I may join in later, but I am no longer a templar.”

“But you still know how to do templar things - right?”

“I do.” Cullen hesitated and then added, “You remember we talked before about lyrium granting templars their abilities?”

“Yes, and that the Chantry forces them to serve to feed their addiction,” Nehn responded.

“I no longer wished to be bound to that life. When I left the Order to join the Inquisition, I stopped taking lyrium.”

“But you said that people who do that can go insane or die...”

“I am willing to accept that risk. Cassandra is watching me and will see that I am replaced if I become compromised.”

“To risk so much for freedom... I might think you were Dalish if you weren’t so annoyingly tall,” Nehn quipped and then said in a more serious tone, “I respect your choice even if I’m concerned about its consequences.” _I’m going to have to cast another calming aura once he leaves. This information has wrecked my nerves._

“Thank you for understanding, but I will not allow myself to come before the Inquisition. My men come first. If I become an ineffective leader, I will not hesitate to step down.”

Nehn grimaced at his response. She’d just started getting used to him and was even enjoying being around him some. He couldn’t just jump ship on her. 

“How are you doing?” Nehn asked. “Are you in pain?”

“Sometimes, but I can endure it,” Cullen answered.

“I’m a healer. I could help,” Nehn offered.

“I don’t think that is wise. I need to manage on my own.”

“Shared burdens are easier. I needn’t use magic if that is your reservation. Just know that I’m available to talk or help you choose potions.”

“I will consider it, Inquisitor,” Cullen said in a voice that hinted he had already made up his mind never to ask for her assistance.

“What time is this sparring session, and what is appropriate attire?”

“We usually spar in a tunic and breeches. You can meet us in the lower courtyard in a half an hour. We’ll be leaving the main keep to avoid drawing a crowd.”

Nehn squealed, “So Dorian wasn’t lying! Please promise that you’ll join in.”

“Why the sudden excitement? And why were you consulting Dorian?”

“No reason. Just looking forward to learning,” Nehn answered with pretended innocence. _Gods please let him join in. I need to see what is under that armor._ “One more quick question, can I invite someone to root for me?”

“If you must...” Cullen replied reluctantly.

“Oh, trust me. I must.” _Dorian would kill me if I didn’t bring him along._

Nehn practically skipped away from Cullen in her excitement and went to collect Dorian after she had changed into a undershirt and breeches.

When Nehn walked past Solas in his study, his eyes tracked her like a predator’s. Keeping his face blank, he asked, “Going somewhere? That is an interesting outfit choice.”

“I’m going to spar, and I’m told that this is the traditional attire.”

“It is, da’len. But women typically wear breast bands when training even if they are small chested,” Solas advised while his eyes briefly glanced down at her chest.

Nehn looked down to see that her nipples were clearly visible through the thin linen. Clapping a hand over her breasts, she gasped, “Ir abelas, hahren,” and then ran toward her bedroom before he could answer.

Tenting his hands, Solas said quietly, “No need to be sorry.”

When Nehn went past a few minutes later after having put on a breast band, her cheeks burned red as she tried to avoid speaking to Solas.

“Would you mind if I went to watch? I might be able to offer some constructive criticism,” Solas offered.

_Gods, no. I’ve already made enough of a fool of myself today._ “Certainly, hahren, if you wish. We’re meeting in the lower courtyard in a few minutes. I’m on my way to ask Dorian to come as well.”

“You were seeking his advice on combat magics over mine?” Solas questioned with a touch of aggravation in his voice.

“No, I just wanted him there for moral support.” _And because he’d kill me if I kept the glistening men all to myself. I hope they remembered my request about elves._

Cassandra and Cullen were waiting in the lower courtyard. “We sent the others ahead because you were running late,” Cassandra snarled.

“Sorry, I had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction,” Nehn apologized.

“I’m sure I don’t care to know what that means,” Cassandra said with her arms folded.

_We have got to get back in the field soon. Cass gets cranky if she doesn’t get to kill things._ Nehn thought.

Cullen led them to a clearing a ways from Skyhold. Two templars, three rogues, and three mages were waiting. The templars and mages stood as far from each other as possible while the rogues were lounging on the ground conserving their energy. Nehn smiled when she saw two of the rogues were elves - cute ones at that. _Leliana, you are a goddess._ To Nehn’s disappointment, Cullen remained in full armor. _Damn it!_

As Nehn braided her ponytail, Cassandra took a moment to reinforce the ground rules which could be summarized by saying, “Try not to kill each other.” Nehn quickly finished braiding her hair, tied it off with a thin black ribbon, then stepped to the center of the clearing.

“We’ll start off simply,” Cullen said. “One templar and two rogues. No dispelling magic, no stealth.”

Nehn had no trouble handling the three combatants under those circumstances, although Cassandra complained that Nehn was being too defensive. “You have offensive spells. Use them,” she shouted.

“I don’t want to hurt them,” Nehn argued, but Cullen reassured her that the mages would make sure to keep barriers on her opponents.

“Okay, but I cast a lot of fire and electricity. Those can injure even if I’m holding back on the intensity,” Nehn warned.

Cullen established the rules for the next round. She would still be fighting one templar and two rogues, but the rogues would be allowed to use potions and smoke bombs to aid their stealth movements.

Nehn’s ability to sense auras came in handy as the elven rogues disappeared from her field of vision, she could still sense their presence. It was challenging casting spells, keeping track of the rogues, and avoiding the templar’s relentless pursuit with his shield, but Nehn managed well. Cassandra was pleased to see Nehn casting fire and electrical spells more aggressively.

When Cullen announced they would add a third rogue in the next round, Solas motioned for Nehn to come over. “The third rogue is a dwarf. She has no connection to the Fade, so your aura tracking will not work. Am I right to assume that is what you’ve been doing with the other rogues?”

Nehn nodded and asked for his advice.

“Eventually, you will need to learn how to detect rogues like a typical person would. For this fight, I would suggest coating her in ice. She will remain visible.”

“How do I do that with a barrier on her?”

“Dispel it then cast. You’ll have to be quick with the second spell. If the mages Cullen selected are of any quality, they should quickly try to replace the barrier,” Solas commented.

“I’ll have to be careful not to hurt her,” Nehn said.

“Of course, that is why I didn’t suggest setting her clothes on fire which would also work and should be done in a combat situation,” Solas advised.

“Enough colluding. I want to see some fighting,” Dorian called out from the boulder he sat on.

The fight began and Nehn did as Solas suggested coating the dwarf in a thin layer of frost after dispelling her barrier. Nehn again won the spar although the dwarf complained Nehn cheated by using dispelling magic.

“Why are you doing fine now when you struggle in a real battle?” Cassandra pulled Nehn aside to ask.

“I’m only having to watch out for myself. Out in the field, I’m trying to keep barriers on my team, locate enemies, and cast offensive spells. That’s much more to follow,” Nehn explained.

“Cullen, go in and fight alongside Nehn. I want to watch what happens when she tries to keep a barrier on herself and a comrade,” Cassandra directed. Nehn wanted to hug the Seeker as Cullen complied by stripping down to his undershirt. Nehn snuck a quick peek at Dorian who gave an enthusiastic thumbs up to the development. Solas noticed their exchange and narrowed his eyes briefly.

When Cullen and Nehn sparred with the rogues and templar, Nehn did much worse. While she never dropped either of their barriers, she consistently lost track of the rogues and was getting flanked so often that Cullen stopped the fight.

“What in the Void? We should be wiping the floor with them. You took them on without any issue alone,” Cullen yelled. He did not like to lose - especially not to Leliana’s people.

Nehn cowered at his anger momentarily and then exploded, “I can only keep track of so many people at a time. I was just trying to keep you safe.”

“I have a shield for that, so does Cassandra,” he snapped.

“Fine, then I’ll just take care of myself and shrug my shoulders when she goes up in flames or gets electrocuted,” Nehn hissed.

“There are no mages in this session other than you. That isn’t a concern here,” Cullen said a little more calmly.

“But I don’t get controlled circumstances out there. I won’t let someone else get hurt on my account,” Nehn said and then marched off far from the others.

“Well, we’ve identified the problem,” Cassandra commented to Cullen. “Now what should we do about it?”

“If I may suggest something,” Solas said.

“Go on,” Cassandra replied.

“She follows the Vir Atish’an - or at least the Dalish version of it. It is a primarily pacifistic path, although it does allow for self defense. One of the key components of the path is an attitude of self-sacrifice. She will not allow those under her care to be harmed even if it means her own death. What happened at Haven should show you how committed she is to that belief system.”

“I would recommend stopping this type of exercise for now. Instead, consider bringing in mages to train her in a fighting method that doesn’t focus on elemental magic. The Inquisitor has an excellent understanding of elemental spells, but it will be easier to reshape her fighting habits if she learns a new combat strategy. What she needs to come to understand is that the right offensive spell can save a teammate’s life just as easily as a barrier.”

“That is a good recommendation, Solas. I did not realize that she held such beliefs. They are... admirable ... even if they are counter-productive in battle. Thank you for helping me to understand her better,” Cassandra said.

Dorian wandered over and caught the tail end of Solas’ suggestion, “Are we speaking about how to help Nehn fight more effectively? She is an absolute gem, but she is so committed to taking care of everyone else that she neglects herself. Not just on the battlefield, but that is another matter.”

As Dorian spoke, he got an idea of how to assist Nehn on more than one front. “She needs to consider the long term implications of her choices better. Commander, you play chess. You should teach her. She will undoubtedly try to save every piece at the beginning, but she’ll see how that strategy will result in catastrophic losses in the long run.”

Cullen smiled, “I like that idea, Dorian, and I wouldn’t want you to be the one to teach her. You cheat ... not well I might add.”

“Still gloating over your last win? Why I put up with such unsportsmanlike conduct I’ll never know. I must enjoy something about you outside of your attitude,” Dorian huffed.

Nehn rejoined her comrades. “So have you come up with something, or is Cullen just going to yell at me more?”

Cullen started to apologize for losing his temper, but Dorian interrupted him. “They’re going to find someone patient or insane enough to try to instruct you in a new combat style, and Cullen is going to teach you chess.”

“Chess?” Nehn said wrinkling her nose at the prospect. She knew the basic rules of the game but considered it tedious.

“Yes, this afternoon in fact. The Commander and I have planned a game already. You can play after we finish,” Dorian explained and then took Nehn by the arm and led her away from the others. “You’ll thank me for this later.”

“For making me play chess? I don’t think so, Dorian.”

“No, for giving you an opportunity to get to know Cullen better. You both need a diversion.”

“You set me up!” Nehn said while whacking Dorian’s arm.

“I most certainly have. Don’t squander this opportunity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 2000 hits! Hooray!! Thanks again for the subscriptions, kudos, and comments. They keep me motivated.


	26. Chapter 26

The next few weeks passed quickly as the Inquisition rebuilt. Leliana and her collection of spies were hard at work tracking down information on the Venatori and Red Templars. While Leliana chased leads, Josephine negotiated with merchants and ingratiated the nobility. Her efforts had a profoundly positive effect on the Inquisition’s standing as well as coffers. Cullen for his part continued to recruit and train the Inquisition’s army.

When Nehn wasn’t in meetings with her advisors, she often studied about human history and the nobility. She was after all leading a largely human organization funded primarily by nobles. Iron Bull provided her with useful insights because of his outsider’s perspective while Cassandra and Dorian shared their own jaded views as nobles themselves. Apart from those studies, Nehn had a standing afternoon appointment with Varric and Sera to practice archery, although those sessions often involved as much joking and laughing as actual target shooting. 

Every few days, Cullen would send a messenger that he was available to play chess. At first the games had been awkward, and he and Nehn had spent most of their time in silence or simply discussing the rules. Eventually, Cullen had started talking about his youth and family - particularly his brother and two sisters. Nehn wasn’t surprised to hear how rambunctious he had been as a boy. Some of the things he admitted to doing sounded much like Falon’s brand of trouble - scrapping with other boys, stealing sweets from the kitchen, and intentionally aggravating his sisters. Cullen, in turn, seemed genuinely interested in Nehn’s life outside the Inquisition and asked many questions about her children and Dalish customs. 

Their conversations flowed easily as long as they kept their eyes primarily on the chess board. Both turned into stammering messes when they made prolonged eye contact, however. Nehn knew her difficulty stemmed from warring emotions. She found Cullen incredibly physically attractive and increasingly endearing, but she had been conditioned her entire life against pursuing romantic relationships with humans. Even the open-minded Clan Lavellan saw interracial romances as grounds for expulsion. As much as she liked Cullen, Nehn wasn’t sure that she was willing to pay that price - especially with how things were going with Solas.

Cullen was completely smitten with Nehn, but he had his own concerns about being in a relationship. For one, he had never really been in one. He had always been too shy, busy, or angry to think much about romance although he did indulge in occasional one night stands. Cullen also worried about the propriety of being involved with someone during a war - especially if it could be construed as fraternization. He didn’t want to hold his soldiers to standards that he wasn’t willing to abide by himself. Then there was the issue of his lyrium addiction. Nehn was supportive of his efforts to get clean, but withdrawal played havoc with his body and mind. He didn’t think it would be fair to draw her into his struggle when she was already facing so much.

Dorian was fit to be tied at the thought of Cullen and Nehn ending up as simply friends. He decided to take the matter up with Nehn. “Why are you just playing chess with Cullen? Hmmm? Gorgeous man. Adores you - don’t even try to argue that point, half of Skyhold has noticed. And ... nothing is happening between you,” Dorian pointed out to Nehn in frustration one afternoon when she went to visit him in the libary.

“Shhh... not here,” Nehn said and leaned over the balcony to see if Solas was listening. He was in his study seemingly absorbed in reading a book, but Nehn worried he still might hear something.

“What? Not the hobo still. Ugh,” Dorian said with distaste while slumping in his chair.

Nehn gave him a dirty look. “If we’re going to talk about this, we need to go somewhere else.”

“But my chair is so comfy, and I just opened this bottle of wine,” Dorian protested.

“Leave your chair, bring the wine,” Nehn ordered.

“Pushy, pushy,” Dorian complained but followed Nehn to her bedroom. Once they were inside, Dorian spread out on her bed while noting he still hadn’t gotten better linens even after six complaints to Josephine. “Alright, what’s the deal with you and the angsty apostate? And why in the name of all that is holy would you chose him over Cullen?”

“I’m not choosing anyone right now, Dorian. I want to keep my options open. I’m not even sure I want a relationship,” Nehn answered.

“Evading... you’re picking up nasty habits from your elven friend,” Dorian said while examining his cuticles.

Nehn plopped down on the bed beside him and said, “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“I’m just trying to understand. Solas is an aloof, condescending twit with a terrible sense of style, and the two of you barely speak to each other.”

Nehn bit her lip. “It’s complicated. And you’re wrong about us not speaking. We talk for hours almost every night.”

“When are you doing this? His bedroom is near mine. He goes to bed very early which makes sense given how Fade-obsessed he is. You aren’t sneaking into his room at night - are you? Although if you’re finally getting laid, then I’ll stop disapproving and shut up.”

Nehn growled and hit Dorian with a pillow. “Fenedhis! I’m not having sex with him, but we do meet almost every night to talk and share memories. We just don’t do it here. We do it in the Fade.”

Dorian looked at Nehn suspiciously. “I’m not making this up, Dorian. When I got the anchor, my experiences in the Fade became much more intense. I am completely lucid when I dream. Solas has been teaching me how to manage that new ability.”

“I’ve heard that Dreamers were common in Old Tevinter and among the ancient elves, but there haven’t been any for centuries, Nehn. If you truly have that gift, it is remarkable.”

“I’m not the only one. Solas is one obviously. Cullen also knew one in Kirkwall. Unfortunately, they made him tranquil. The point is that although it doesn’t seem like I’ve spent much time with Solas, I have. He is different in the Fade - more at ease, much warmer, and very considerate. He chooses a different location for us to meet every night. With him, I've seen memories of Orzammar before the fall of the Deep Roads, Val Royeaux when it was nothing more than a trading post, and elven ruins in every setting imaginable,” Nehn said while looking at Dorian with pleading eyes.

“Nehn, I’m sure he’s utterly fascinating, but I don’t trust him. Why would you favor him? Be honest with me, I’m trying to understand.”

“He’s an elf,” Nehn said quietly.

“So? You aren’t limited to elves, Nehn.”

“Maybe you aren’t limited to humans, Dorian, but if I pursued something with Cullen or Varric beyond the most discrete and casual of flings then I would be expelled from my clan. Even a relationship with Solas would bring shame because he isn’t Dalish.”

“I’m sorry I don’t think I heard you right. You’re telling me that you’ll be kicked out of your clan if you date anyone but an elf? And you’re telling me that you’re interested in Varric, too? I’m not one to judge, but you have very wide-ranging tastes,” Dorian said with a look of absolute confusion.

“My tastes are fairly simple. I like intelligent men,” Nehn said while folding her arms defiantly.

“Well, if that’s the case, why not throw Bull in the running?” Dorian snarked.

“I don’t think we’d be compatible. He treats sex too casually and is into bondage. No one is going to tie me up - at least not right away,” Nehn answered matter-of-factly.

“Again ... too much information. While I appreciate your honesty, a teensy bit of discretion would be ever so appreciated,” Dorian corrected.

“Sorry.” Nehn put her head on Dorian’s shoulder. “It would be so much easier if you liked women and were an elf.”

“It would be easier for me as well - except the being an elf part. Elves don't have it easy in Tevinter. But I’m happy with who I am,” Dorian said.

“Who you love - as long as they’re Dalish - doesn’t matter to our clan. It’s different in Tevinter then?”

“Yes, it is. Come to think of it, our situations are somewhat similar. You clan would accept a discrete dalliance with a non-elf. Tevinter is fine with casual sex between men. But both our cultures expect that you will have long term relationships with only certain types of people. When I set you up with Cullen, I didn’t realize that was an issue.”

“It’s okay, Dorian. I really like him. I mean I _really_ like him. It’s just...”

“You cherish your clan. It’s different than my leaving Tevinter where I’m a pariah.”

“Yeah... Speaking of my clan, Cullen told me this morning that he expects his troops and their mercenary reinforcements should have reached them today. You’d think that would make me feel relieved, but I’m a nervous wreck. It’ll be days before we hear any news of how things went.”

“Forgive me for not thinking to ask about them earlier. I can’t imagine how worried you must be.” 

“I try not to dwell on it, or I wouldn’t be able to function. Dorian, if something happens to my children...” Nehn couldn’t even finish her sentence as her shoulders started to shake.

“Cullen has atrocious taste in coats and uses way too much hair lotion, but he is a very smart and capable commander. If anyone can keep them safe, he can and will. My solution to nearly any problem is to drink until I can’t remember what I was upset about, but I can’t recommend that for you. You are an absolute disgrace when intoxicated.”

Nehn laughed. “I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen. I’d be up for a kitchen raid, though. I wonder if there are any cookies.”

“With as many sweets as you eat, how in the world do you stay so tiny?”

“Elven metabolism. Nervous energy. I don’t know. Now that I’ve mentioned cookies, I’m obsessing on having one. Come on. Off my bed, let’s head to the kitchen.”

As Nehn and Dorian emerged from her quarters, she noticed that a few people looked at them suspiciously - especially Mother Giselle. Nehn was still angry at Giselle for the song fiasco, so she gave the woman a snide look and marched toward the kitchens. 

Cook was still in the kitchens when Nehn entered. “Oh no you don’t. You may be Inquisitor, but you don’t get to come in here whenever you please. This is my kitchen,” the grumpy woman bellowed. “I’ve already had a tray of cookies go missing. I’m getting tired of food disappearing. Cheese wheels. Mint. Now cookies. I’m sick of it. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nehn said and then filched an apple from a barrel when the cook turned away.

As soon as Nehn left the kitchen, Cole was in front of her with a tray of cookies. He gave an awkward smile as he handed them to her. “I thought you’d want to celebrate.”

“Why would I be celebrating, Cole?” Nehn asked.

“Your clan is safe,” Cole replied.

“How do you know that?” Nehn asked incredulously.

“Your hurt touches theirs, so I can hear them,” Cole said with a slight nod.

“And my babies?”

“Her face is still tender- adulthood earned through pain and patience. She seeks your approval but also her independence. Her first real choice as an adult -to stay or to go - made no easier by her feelings for him,” Cole said rhythmically.

“That’s my Sylvia. Her vallaslin is still fresh. I’m not surprised that she can’t decide. He is a good man, a craftsman like her father, and he loves her. I wish she’d wait until she was older, but I was the same age when I was bonded. And the others?”

“Angry, agitated, abandoned. You should have never left in the first place. He can’t protect you when you’re gone, and he doesn’t want to live with shems.”

“Falon. He’s been angry since Garel died and feels its his job to take care of me. As for the comments about shems, he’s going through an ‘elfy’ phase. And Asha, Cole?”

“She is hard to hear. Her thoughts barely make ripples. _Ma dorf halla_?” Cole said with confusion

“That's her favorite stuffed animal - a grey halla. She’s probably asleep. She thinks she's too big to play with him, but she still sleeps with him every night”

Nehn put her arms around Cole and hugged him fiercely. “If I ever had any doubt about allowing you to remain here, you’ve just erased it in its entirety. Thank you, Cole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nehn and her crew are going to have to take off from Skyhold soon - and she will soon after Hawke shows up.


	27. Chapter 27

As soon as Nehn let go of Cole, she handed Dorian a cookie and declared, “We’ve got to tell the others - especially Cullen.”

Dorian knew that Cole had the ability to read minds. Cole had intruded on his own thoughts on more than one occasion. It just seemed unreal that Cole could actually hear Nehn’s children and clan who were half a continent away, but seeing the relief on Nehn’s face made him keep his reservations to himself. He figured that a letter would arrive within a week either confirming Cole’s assertion or bringing upsetting news. Allowing Nehn to have peace of mind in the meantime seemed an acceptable risk to take. 

The Tevinter was concerned how Cullen would react to Nehn’s news, though. Cullen and Cassandra had both advocated removing Cole from Skyhold when it became evident that he was more than simply an odd young man - going so far as to express their concern that Cole might be a demon. Solas had convinced Nehn to let Cole stay by arguing that he was simply a spirit that had chosen a human form. Opinions throughout her inner circle were mixed on whether Nehn had made the right choice by letting Cole join not only the Inquisition but her team. Dorian himself was undecided on how he felt.

“Inquisitor, I’m not sure that Cullen will accept Cole’s word. Perhaps save your thanks for when a raven arrives confirming victory. The Commander may not be a templar any longer, but he still thinks like one at times,” Dorian advised.

Nehn’s face fell and Dorian felt terrible that he had introduced doubt into her mind. “I guess you’re correct. Solas will understand though. I’ll tell him.”

When Dorian heard that she was going to speak with Solas instead, he wanted to kick himself. _Excellent job pushing her toward the hobo, Dorian. Maybe next time you could call Cullen a shemlen, too,_ Dorian berated himself.

Folding his arms across his chest, Dorian watched Nehn tell Solas about her clan although he had to suppress a gag when she hugged him while doing so. _Don’t read too much into it. Nehn is very affectionate._ Dorian observed that Solas did seem fond of Nehn. His eyes had lit up when she walked into his room, and his attention never wandered from her. Solas had even _smiled_ and _laughed_ with her several times which Dorian would have thought impossible given Solas’ tendency to be stone faced and fatalistic. She clearly drew out the best in the bald apostate, but Dorian still couldn’t see what she saw in him. 

Varric wandered into Solas’ study a short while later. “I thought I heard your laugh, Sassy. When you’ve finished talking to Chuckles and Sparkler, I need a moment of your time.”

“What’s on your mind, Varric?” Nehn asked. The dwarf, who was usually silver tongued, stumbled over his words a bit before saying he preferred to discuss things with her privately. _Interesting_ Dorian thought. _I hadn’t noticed it before, but I’d wager Varric has a crush on her. Little Nehn has quite the fan club. Good for you, girlfriend._

“Sure, Varric. I need to discuss some requisitions with the quartermaster. We can talk on the way there, and then you can take me to supper. I did win our contest earlier today,” Nehn replied and Dorian noticed a flirtatious lilt to her voice. _You little vixen. Here I thought you needed assistance catching a man. You clearly only need help choosing one._

“You only won because I spotted you 10 points,” Varric teased back with a twinkle in his eye.

When Nehn exited Solas’ study, she did so with a pronounced sway of her hips. Dorian had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling at how intently Solas was staring at her rear as she walked away. Dorian also caught that when Nehn laced her arm through Varric’s, Solas’ eyes narrowed dangerously only to rebound to happily content when Nehn glanced over her shoulder and waved goodbye. 

After Nehn and Varric had left the main hall, Solas turned to Dorian and said icily, “Was there something you needed?”

“Actually, there is... Nehn is very tender-hearted and tries to see the best in people. Don’t take advantage of that,” Dorian said with a threatening edge to his voice.

“A morality lecture from a Tevinter? How many elven slaves do you and your family have?” Solas spat back.

“I own none, and my family treats theirs well,” Dorian retorted.

Solas laughed with disgust, “You may not have owned them, but you certainly used them. And yet you have the gall to accuse me of taking advantage of someone. Examine yourself, Dorian. Hypocrisy is unbecoming.”

**********************

“What did you need to tell me, Varric?” Nehn asked as they walked arm in arm down to the courtyard.

“I know someone that might be able to help us deal with Corypheus. I’d like you to meet him,” Varric whispered.

“That’s terrific, Varric! Why are you whispering?”

“Just let me introduce you. He’s already here at Skyhold.”

“I’ve got to talk with Quartermaster Morris first. Why don’t you have him meet us at the tavern?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if that would be the best idea, Sassy. He’s been trying to keep a low profile the past year.”

“Hawke?” Nehn whispered when the realization hit. “Cassandra is going to have a shit fit, Varric.”

“Which is why we’re keeping this meeting quiet.”

“You’ve known where he was this whole time. Why didn’t you tell Cassandra?”

“I had no idea why that lunatic Seeker was after him. You know how she gets. And then when the explosion happened at the Conclave, I didn’t want to drag him into another mess. He’s had enough trouble for a lifetime. Would you have told her where I was in a similar circumstance? Also I didn’t technically know where he was. I only knew how to contact him.”

“Cassandra isn’t a lunatic. She’s just committed to finding truth,” Nehn said feeling the need to defend her friend.

“Says the person who woke up clapped in irons for doing nothing more than surviving an explosion... You’re a very forgiving person, Nehn. I don’t know how you put that behind you so easily.”

“She apologized and was contrite. I could have nursed a grudge, but what good would that have done? I much prefer having her as a friend.”

“Well, I hope your _friend_ doesn’t kill me when she hears about Hawke. He’s waiting on the battlements. Let me take you to him.”

“Varric, how is he going to know anything about Corypheus?”

“We fought Corypheus once. We thought we killed him even. I left the incident out of the book because we found out some pretty damning things about Hawke’s father as a result of our encounter. Hawke had already lost everyone in his family. I didn’t want to trash his father’s reputation,” Varric explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner, Varric?”

“I wanted Hawke here, so you could get the full story from both of us. I wrote him as soon as we got to Skyhold, and he arrived today. I’ve not been holding out on you, Sass.” 

“Thanks, Varric. Take me to him.”

Varric looked around and saw that Cassandra was occupied sparring with some of Cullen’s recruits. “Cassandra is busy. Let’s go now.”

Hawke looked different than Nehn imagined. She had thought he would be rakishly handsome, well built, and tall. Instead he was just a normal person with average height and features. He even had a bit of a paunch. The only remarkable things about his appearance were a port wine stain birthmark across his nose and his sharp blue eyed gaze. _How did he defeat an Arishok in single combat?_ Nehn wondered. She extended her hand to him as Varric made his introductions. He didn’t shake it, however, and braced himself on the battlements while inspecting the courtyard instead.

“You want my advice? Did you hear what happened to Kirkwall? My _advice_ nearly tore that city apart.” Hawke snarled. Nehn folded her arms defensively. 

“I’m not saying that I intend to follow your advice,” Nehn quipped.

Hawke called over his shoulder to Varric, “I can see why you stuck around.”

“Whatever happens, it’ll make for a great story,” Varric replied.

“And if it doesn’t you’ll just make up something better,” Hawke said accusingly.

Nehn was confused. From Varric’s book, she expected that Hawke would be witty and sarcastic not bristly and bitter. She briefly wondered how Varric would change her personality in his stories but pushed the thought aside. She needed to learn what she could from Hawke even if he wasn’t what she expected. They talked about Hawke’s encounter with Corypheus and how he seemed to be able to control Wardens because of their tie to the Blight. Hawke thought the disappearance of the Wardens might somehow be related to Corypheus reappearance.

“Well, shit...” was all Nehn could manage to say which brought a genuine smile to Hawke’s face. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Look, I’ve got a contact in the wardens. His name is Stroud, and he has been concerned with them becoming corrupted. He’s hiding out in a cave in Crestwood. I plan on heading there next. You’re welcome to meet me,” Hawke offered.

“I’ll take any lead I can get at the moment,” Nehn answered.

“Good. I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Hawke said and then extended his hand to Nehn who wasn’t taken aback by the strength of his grip. Hawke may not have been the handsome jokester she expected, but he was straightforward and seemed committed to making things right. They would work well together.


	28. Chapter 28

Nehn’s prediction that Cassandra would have a conniption fit when she found out that Varric had known how to reach Hawke proved accurate. Cassandra had reacted so poorly (cornering Varric, assaulting him, and flipping a table over in the armory) that Nehn had told Cassandra that she had to stay at Skyhold rather than go with the team to meet Hawke’s contact. When Nehn heard Varric gloating about Cassandra being put in “time out,” she made him stay behind as well. 

“Boss, you’re as tough as a tamassran,” Bull had commented when they left Skyhold without Varric and Cassandra. “I didn’t realize you were a strict disciplinarian type.”

“I prefer to be gentler, but I can be tough when I need to be,” Nehn purred.

“Boss,” Bull said with a little growl. “Talk like that makes me want to misbehave just to see how you’d correct me.”

“It’s never happening, Bull,” Nehn said while shaking her head.

“Shot you down fast,” Sera snorted. “You’ve got to be more stumbly bumbly to get her interest. Isn’t that right, Inky? You like to see a man falling over themselves to fall on top of you.”

“Sera, we’re not too far from Skyhold for me to send you back, too. I’m in no mood for this,” Nehn threatened.

“You’re in a mood. Just not a good one. I’ve got some good herbal remedies if it’s that time of the month,” Sera offered. Nehn glared fiercely, and Sera shivered a bit. 

“You do seem a bit tense, Nehn,” Dorian observed. “Is something wrong?”

“Heading away from them when they’re heading to me. Some mother I am,” Cole chanted and Nehn sighed in exasperation.

“Cole, I can speak for myself. But yes, I’m upset that my children are on their way to Skyhold, and I’m leaving for Crestwood. It’s been months since I’ve seen them, and I won’t be there when they arrive. How are they going to feel when they have traveled that far, left their friends and clan, and I’m not even around to greet them? And then the best I can hope for is staying a few weeks before I leave them again.”

“When are they expected at Skyhold?” Dorian questioned.

“In three to four weeks,” Nehn answered.

“So we just have to wrap shit up in Crestwood fast, Boss. You’ve got the Chargers at your disposal. Send a raven and have them catch up to us. We’ll get more done in less time that way,” Bull advised. “We only need you to talk with Hawke and deal with rifts if there are any. Let my guys handle any clean up operations, and we’ll get you back to Skyhold.”

“Is that really a fair use of resources?” Nehn questioned.

“I don’t see why not,” Dorian responded. “Having the Chargers sit at Skyhold drinking and brawling because they’re bored isn’t a good use of their skills.”

“Send for them, Bull.” Nehn ordered.

*******************  
Nehn was thankful that she had commanded the Chargers to meet her in Crestwood. The town was under assault from undead that were rising from a nearby lake reservoir as a result of a rift in a cavern under the lake. While Nehn went to meet Hawke’s contact, she ordered the Chargers take a fort on the lake that bandits had occupied. The fort was the only access point to the dam controls for the reservoir, and the lake would need to be drained for Nehn to deal with the rift.

As an odd coincidence, Nehn had already met Hawke’s contact Warden Commander Stroud before. He had been the mustachioed Orleasian that came to her clan recruiting years before. She was flabbergasted to meet him and immediately asked about Shirra the hunter from her clan that had left to join the Wardens with him. 

“Shirra did not survive the Joining. Her name is recorded at Weisshaupt along with all of the other wardens that have sacrificed themselves fighting the Blight,” Stroud said.

“Why didn’t you return her body to us? Did you at least give her an elven burial?” Nehn questioned with rising emotion in her voice.

“When one joins the wardens, they leave their former lives behind. We gave her a respectful burial. I am sorry for your loss,” Stroud consoled.

“Respectful isn’t _elven_. Her soul could be forever lost in the Beyond!” Nehn yelled and then left the cavern.

“Let me talk with her,” Solas offered. “Bull, why don’t you discuss things with Stroud in the meantime?”

Solas found Nehn outside the cavern fashioning a makeshift altar. “What are you doing, lethallin?”

“I’m going to offer prayers to Falon’Din to guide her soul. I can’t neglect my duties to her,” Nehn said.

Solas felt at war with himself. He knew how much Nehn’s faith meant to her, and he also knew how very misguided her beliefs were. Falon’Din wasn’t the benevolent guide for the dead that the Dalish believed him to be. Instead, he had been a narcissistic despot that purposefully started wars to attract more followers. Telling that to Nehn wouldn’t ease her grief, so Solas opted for a different approach.

“I know you offer prayers to the Creators out of honest faith, da’len. But you also know that they can’t help. The Creators are trapped in another realm and have no authority here. Shirra’s soul will have to find its own way in the Beyond. You haven’t failed in your duty to her. The Creators failed you,” Solas said sadly.

“They didn’t fail. They were tricked,” Nehn answered angrily. “Fen’Harel took everything from our people - our gods, our hope, our immortality. Now we’re just a remnant of what we once were, and we’re fading away, Solas. Every year there are fewer elves that try to keep the old ways. And what customs and stories we do have are flawed and incomplete. How can you fault me for trying to preserve what little I know? If I don’t strive to remember, who will?” Nehn said with genuine heartbreak.

Solas sighed. She blamed him for what happened to her people. She wasn’t wrong entirely. His plan to stop the constant fighting amongst the elven gods and the forgotten ones had gone awry. Consequences upon consequences for his choice were heaped upon the People, but Nehn knew none of that. She only had a child’s faith in stories told to her by campfire.

“Then if you want to make an altar to Falon’Din, let’s do it correctly at least,” he said swallowing his pride to ease her pain. Squatting beside her, he reconstructed the altar how Falon’Din would have preferred. Then he said the prayer for the dead - not the twisted one the Dalish knew, but the prayer that he had spoken for those who had fought and fallen in his rebellion when Elvehnan was still an empire. 

“Ma serannas, hahren. You do the People proud, Solas,” she said before putting her head on his shoulder. “As do you, lethallin,” he whispered while taking her hand in his own.

Solas and Nehn were gone so long that Dorian became concerned. He walked out of the cave and was astonished to find them sitting side by side with Nehn resting her head against Solas arm while he spoke quietly in elven while holding her unmarked hand. The moment felt strangely intimate, and Dorian turned and went back inside the cave without a word. 

A short time later, Nehn entered the cave looking completely composed and made plans to meet Stroud in the Western Approach to follow up on the lead he had there. She then took Stroud aside and apologized for her outburst. He politely accepted her apology and reminded her that life of a warden was always one of sacrifice - whether to the Joining, a darkspawn attack, or the Calling itself. “In times like these, I wonder if those who died in the Joining were the more fortunate of our brothers and sisters,” he said. “Death is the only release from our duty.”

By the time Nehn and her companions made it back from Stroud’s cavern to the town of Crestwood, the Chargers had secured the fortress, drained the lake, and notified Skyhold to send reinforcements to hold the newly acquired keep Caer Bronach. Nehn was understandably impressed and promised that there’d be several casks of mead waiting for them at Skyhold. 

The rift exposed by draining the lake was one of the most difficult Nehn had faced. Demons and wisps spawned relentlessly from it, and she found herself wishing that she hadn’t left Cassandra behind. Bull was a great warrior, but his two handed fighting style and long reach meant that he couldn’t guard Nehn the same way Cassandra did. When the rift has ready to be sealed, Nehn didn’t have the strength to lift her arm, so Solas had to hold her hand up as he had the first time she had closed a rift - except he was more gentle about it. Once the rift was sealed, Nehn dropped down to her knees utterly spent.

“Thank you,” she panted. 

“Your mana is nearly depleted,” Solas observed while handing her a lyrium potion. Nehn merely nodded and drank the potion.

“Hey, Boss, are you hurt?” Bull asked.

“It looks like she let her mana get too low,” Dorian commented. “She’ll be fine with some rest. The lyrium will speed her recovery. Nehn, I know this isn’t the ideal location, but if you could take a nap...”

“You mages are weird. This place is wet and cold and demony. You’d be nutters to fall asleep here,” Sera interrupted.

“Well, the Boss must be completely crazy because she’s already out cold,” Bull said while motioning toward Nehn who was sleeping soundly with her head resting on Cole’s thigh like a pillow.

“I helped her fall asleep, but it wasn’t hard. She’s very tired,” Cole said. 

Nehn’s companions found themselves staring awkwardly at each other. None of them were particularly close, and it was odd being together without Varric to fill in the silences with stories or Nehn to ensure that conversations stayed civil.

Dorian broke the silence first, “She has been very exhausted lately. Does that have anything to do with the time she’s spending with you at night, Solas?”

“What are you two doing at night?” Bull asked lasciviously. 

Solas was visibly caught off guard for a moment and then returned to his typical impassive self, “I’m surprised that she mentioned that to you, Dorian, but no if anything the deep sleep required for dreaming would leave her better rested.”

“Still feeling confused here,” Bull commented.

“Nehn can control her dreams like Solas does, or at least she’s been learning how to do that from him,” Dorian answered.

“An oversimplification, but it will suffice,” Solas added.

“Freaky mages. Talking about it doesn’t make it normal,” Sera said and walked out of earshot.

“So what’s got the Boss so worn out?” Bull wondered aloud.

“Other than being a pacifist that’s leading a war? Or a Dalish elf trying to adapt to living among humans? Or a mother that hasn’t seen her children in months?” Solas snarked.

“Point made. I sometimes forget that this isn’t a life she chose,” Bull admitted. “We can’t really change any of those things, though. What can we do to help her?”

“Stop arguing,” Cole said simply.

“We aren’t really arguing, Cole,” Bull said.

“No. You asked what would help her. She wishes her friends would stop arguing with each other. It makes her very sad,” Cole explained.

“I can do that - at least when she’s around to hear,” Dorian promised and the others agreed. “It’ll be tough to get Cassandra and Varric to come around to the idea, but they both adore her. I’d wager that even they will tone it down for her sake.”

Cole then looked directly at Solas. “It would also help her if you could decide what you want.”

“Cole, that is not a simple choice,” Solas said evenly.

“She changes everything. You could let them go,” Cole said.

“I know that, Cole,” Solas replied.

“You didn’t do it to be right. You did it to save them,” Cole continued.

“What in the blue blazes are you talking about?” Dorian asked.

“A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything,” Solas said sorrowfully.

“You weren’t wrong though,” Cole encouraged.

“I will never know that for certain, Cole, but thank you for saying it,” Solas acknowledged.


	29. Chapter 29

“Stop biting your fingernails. It’s unhygienic and you’ve already chewed them down to the quick,” Dorian chastised Nehn.

“Yes, mamae,” Nehn replied sarcastically but stopped nibbling. “I’m not good at waiting.”

“Now you’re twirling your hair. I’m not helping you get the tangles out later. Can’t you just sit still?” 

“I’ve never been good at that either,” Nehn admitted. “Especially when I’m nervous or excited.” As if her body wished to prove her point, Nehn unconsciously began to tap her foot when she stopped fussing with her hair. “When I’d get like this at home, Garel would give me arrows to fletch, or Dashana would have me grinding herbs for potions. Usually the children kept me busy enough that I didn’t get too bad.”

“Well, thank the Maker that they’ll be here soon. You are absolutely annoying right now,” Dorian huffed.

“Dorian ... thanks for sitting out here with me,” Nehn said earnestly.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Dorian said while reaching over to still Nehn’s leg. 

Just as he finished his sentence, Nehn squealed, stood up, and ran toward the four figures that emerged from the gate tower. Dorian’s eyes danced as he caught his first glimpse of Nehn’s family. It was easy to identify Asha. She was a miniature Nehn with her mother’s inviting face, auburn hair, and blue green eyes. Sylvia was taller then Nehn and had large soulful brown eyes and light brown hair cropped into a pragmatic bob. Dorian surmised that the slightly older blond man beside her was betrothed, Sionn. Falon, then, was the sandy brown haired and blue eyed teen sulking at the back of the party.

Sylvia caught Nehn in a tight embrace first while Asha peered inquisitively toward Dorian. Sionn stood taller as if trying to impress his future mother-in-law as Nehn and Sylvia conversed in elven while Asha cuddled up to her mother. Falon stared at the ground until Nehn walked over, took him by the chin, examined him closely, and then pulled him into a close hug. Dorian saw the sullen teenager disappear at her touch replaced by a young man that obviously adored his mother. 

Nehn waved Dorian over and introduced him. Her family appeared understandably wary of a human - much less one from slave-owning Tevinter. Sylvia, Sionn, and Asha were polite and seemed to reserve judgment based on Nehn’s clear approval of Dorian. Falon, however, returned to the indignant, aloof demeanor he had shown earlier. _Nehn has her hands full with him,_ Dorian thought as his mind traveled back to his own angry teenage years.

“Let me show you to your rooms first, and then we can catch up. Asha, you can stay in my room until Sionn and Sylvia are bonded. I’m so happy that I’ll get to perform the ceremony, Sylvia - even if it isn’t with the full clan in attendance,” Nehn said as she led her family to the main keep.

Gatsi, the chief builder at Skyhold, had remodeled the winding stairwell entrance to Nehn’s quarters to create three small rooms where the stairwell once stood. Moving the stairwell allowed the rooms to have natural lighting from windows in the castle’s exterior walls. When construction was complete, the stairs to Nehn’s quarters wrapped around the opposite side of the tower and were illuminated with lyrium lamps. Nehn was thrilled with the renovations - especially since her children would be sleeping in the most well-guarded part of Skyhold.

Once they reached the door in the great hall that led to the Inquisitor’s quarters, Dorian excused himself to allow Nehn time alone with her family. Josephine was at Dorian’s side the moment the door closed. “Do you think she’ll come around to the idea of a small celebratory soiree? Nothing too big, of course, maybe just a hundred of her closest friends and allies.”

“I don’t think Nehn has a hundred _close_ friends, Josephine. If you want to do something that Nehn and her children might actually enjoy, then clear out the chantry courtyard, put up some archery targets, bring in a few mabari pups, and serve lots of cake and cookies. Oh... and keep the guest list under twenty,” Dorian advised.

“It just seems like such a wasted opportunity to expand the Inquisition’s influence. People want to feel connected to the Herald,” Josephine opined.

“And she wants to be with her children - not act as a hostess to a bunch of nobles that want to gawk at their ‘quaint Dalish family’ as I heard them described earlier today in this very hall,” Dorian countered.

“You’re quite right. Sometimes I get so carried away trying to help the Inquisition grow that I forget to see her as a person instead of a symbol. I can have the small party you described ready in a few hours. Do you think that would be too soon?” Josephine asked.

“No, I think it would be perfect. All of her inner circle is dying to meet them. I was surprised that she asked me to wait with her to be honest. I mean who takes a Tevinter mage to greet a group of Dalish elves?”

“The Inquisitor, apparently. It seems that the two of you are becoming rather serious,” Josephine commented.

“Serious? What? You think that we’re... Oh, that is positively the funniest thing I’ve heard in months. No, my lovely ambassador, we’re friends - nothing more,” Dorian corrected.

“There are many rumors to the contrary going around Skyhold, and you are in her quarters frequently,” Josephine persisted.

“Yes, I do spend a great deal of time in her room. It is much nicer than my own. Perhaps I’d spend more time in my quarters if it had better furnishings - or at least nicer linens.”

“Dorian, we’ve been over this repeatedly. The Inquisition’s resources are not to be wasted on extravagances.”

“Sheets with a decent thread count aren’t extravagances. They’re necessities!” Dorian exclaimed.

“Very well. You can spend your own coin to acquire them. I will go see to the party preparations now. Until later, Dorian,” Josephine said with a polite curtsy and left.

“Still trying to get better sheets, Sparkler?” Varric asked. “You could just get your own. I’ve got some connections in the textile business if you want me to set you up.”

“No, it has become a matter of principle at this point. Josephine will see reason eventually.”

“Or you’re hoping to wear her down, and save your own money in the process,” Varric noted.

“My money already goes to more important things - like good brandy and fine clothes. I can’t be expected to start paying for home goods, too,” Dorian snuffed.

“And people wonder why ‘entitled nobility’ has become such a cliche,” Varric mumbled. Speaking louder, he added, “I saw Sassy and her brood go by. Damn, I’ve never seen someone look so happy. You could light this whole hall with the smile on her face.”

“I think she’ll do better with them around. Don’t you, Varric?”

“I hope so, although I’m worried that it’s going to be tough to get her to leave. We’re going to have to get out to the Western Approach to follow up with Hawke and Stroud, and I heard Cullen speaking to some of his officers - a squad has gone missing in the Hinterlands,” Varric cautioned.

“Don’t let her hear you talk about that. The first person that suggests she leave Skyhold anytime soon is likely to get immolated.”

“I’m not saying anything to Sassy. I prefer to keep my chest hair unsinged. Curly, on the other hand, is already drawing up travel plans for her.”

“I don’t know whether to call him dedicated or foolish,” Dorian sighed.

“I’d go with clueless,” Varric suggested.


	30. Chapter 30

Falon had made up his mind to be miserable at Skyhold, so he was quite aggravated when Nehn showed him his room. The walls were painted with a realistic mural of a forest while the floor was blanketed with the same woven sissal that covered the floor of their aravel. Rather than shemlen furniture, he had a hammock like the one he slept in at home, and the remainder of the room was outfitted with chairs and chests obviously made by elven craftsmen. The kicker was a weapons stand outfitted with four Dalish bows - one of which bore his father’s stamp.

“Do you like it, da’len?” Nehn asked expectantly.

Falon didn’t like it. He _loved_ it, but he didn’t want to admit that to his mother. “It’s okay, I guess,” he murmured.

“I know it’s a big adjustment. Sylvia told me that you were almost ready to choose your vocation and vallaslin when I sent for you. When we return to the clan, we’ll see it done right away,” Nehn offered.

Falon felt truly angry at his mother for the first time since they had been reunited. “You’re joking - right? _When_ we go back to the clan? You can’t be that stupid.”

Nehn clenched her jaw at his insult, but before she could speak, Sionn did. “That’s no way to speak to an elder -much less your mother. Apologize.”

Falon grudgingly obliged, and Nehn gave Sionn a look that said she wanted to be alone with Falon. “Da’assan, it isn’t like you to be hateful. What would make you think we won’t be returning home?”

“Ask Sylvia for Deshanna’s letter. You’ll see,” Falon said as he skulked over to the window and stared out at the mountains.

“Deshanna’s letter?” Nehn asked and then turned toward the door. Just before she opened it, Falon called out to her, “Mamae, ir abelas.”

“I know that you’re sorry, da’assan, and I forgive you. I’m going to speak with Sylvia about this letter.”

Sylvia was in Asha’s room unpacking her trunk since she would be staying there until her wedding. Nehn had the room painted in Asha’s favorite color, a buttery yellow, and a soft blue woolen rug covered much of the wood floor. All of the furniture was made from bent birchwood, and hundreds of small crystals hung from the ceiling at different heights creating rainbows all over the walls. 

“Sylvia, what’s this about a letter from Deshanna?” 

Sylvia’s cheeks flushed in anger, and she stormed toward her brother’s room declaring, “I’m going to kill him.”

“Stop,” Nehn said firmly. “Give me the letter, Sylvia.”

“She’ll change her mind. You’ll see. She was just feeling overwhelmed. The bandits kept coming at us. Food was scarce. She missed having you to share the workload,” Sylvia stammered while Nehn held out her hand for the letter.

“Sylvia, the letter ... please,” Nehn asked again.

“Look, we’ve got the welcome party in just a little while. Why don’t we go to that, and then I’ll give you the letter? But like I said, she’ll change her mind. You don’t even really need to read it.”

Nehn raised an eyebrow and kept her hand extended. Sylvia sighed while reaching into her pocket. Handing the letter over, she said, “I’m sorry, Mamae.”

Nehn could guess the contents of the letter from Sylvia and Falon’s reactions, but she needed to read it herself. Sitting down on top of Asha’s pale green coverlet, Nehn unfolded and read Deshanna’s missive.

_Da’len,_

_I want to thank you for the assistance the Inquisition sent Clan Lavellan. You saved our clan from certain annihilation, and we will always be grateful. The army you instructed to help us was an impressive force, and I am told that they represent just a small number of those under your command._

_We are proud of how you represent your people, and pray for your success. The clan realizes that you have grown close to the humans you lead - especially since you would entrust them with bringing your children to your new home. We also know that the likelihood of your returning to us after you have led the Inquisition is low. It is for that reason that I will be taking a new First either when Arlathvhen convenes or another clan answers our request for a mage._

_Please take the news of your replacement not as an insult but as a recognition of the new life you lead. You and your children will always be welcome guests to Clan Lavellan._

_Dareth shiral,_  
_Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan_

Nehn read the letter several times. _Welcome guests? A guest to my clan?_ She dropped the letter into her lap and covered her mouth in horror. _She sent me to the Conclave. I’m trying to save the clan **and** the rest of the world. And her thanks is to politely expel me and my children?_ Tears started welling up in Nehn’s eyes and her shoulders shook with rage. _I knew this could happen, but I thought we meant more to her. I thought **I** meant more to her. I was her First for twenty years._

Sylvia sat beside her mother and put her arms around her. “Mamae, I’m so sorry. Deshanna hated hearing you called Andraste’s Herald. When you agreed to lead the Inquisition and then later asked for her to send us to you, she decided that you were in effect severing ties with your old life. Nothing I could say would dissuade her. Rumors reached us as well that you were involved with a human.”

Nehn shook her head and wiped her tears away. “Deshanna is wrong. I fought the title of Herald. You can ask any of my advisors or close associates if I ever embraced it. I _never_ did. I even went so far as to tell the Chantry in Val Royeaux that I wasn’t Andraste’s Herald. I took the leadership of the Inquisition because someone _had_ to, and this mark and my confrontation with Corypheus made me the logical choice.”

“But the human that greeted us, Mamae...”

“Is one of my dearest friends, but we are not lovers. I’ve been with no one but your father. The truth doesn’t matter, though. I didn’t want to believe this could happen - that Deshanna would act out of such prejudice. And to punish you children for my choices...”

“We all left of our own accord, Mamae. Deshanna asked Asha to remain and become her First. She told Falon he could get his vallaslin if he stayed. She implied that Sionn would choose the clan over me. Obviously, she was wrong on that account. Ayla wanted to come as well, but Taran refused. He didn’t want their children to become flat ears. She couldn’t leave them,” Sylvia explained while fighting back her own tears.

“She tried to blackmail you into staying?” Nehn was infuriated, and the crystals that hung from the ceiling began to shake.

“Mamae, your magic...”

“Ir abelas,” Nehn apologized and took several deep breaths. The crystals stopped vibrating.

“She didn’t want me to tell you how she had tried to talk us into staying. She said that you would take revenge on the clan. I told her that the Dread Wolf could take her, and that you walked the Vir Atish’an and would never hurt the innocent.”

“That’s my brilliant girl. I’m sorry, baby, that this happened. All of this...” Nehn said quietly while staring at her marked hand.

“I am, too. But we’re glad to be here with you, and we’ll make the best of it,” Sylvia said with a resilient smile.

******************  
Nehn put on a cheerful facade for Josephine’s party. Her friends were eager to meet her family, and to her relief, everyone seemed to hit it off. A table full of cakes and cookies also improved Nehn’s mood. She was of the opinion that there was little wrong with the world that baked goods couldn’t fix. 

Sionn gravitated to Harritt, Dagna, and Cassandra. They spent the evening discussing smithing and crafting. Upon hearing that Sionn was once his clan’s lead craftsman and had apprenticed under Nehn’s late husband, Harritt offered Sionn a position in the Inquisition smithy. “The Inquisitor’s always bringing back ironbark and sylvanwood. I could use someone that actually knows how to craft using those materials,” Harritt noted. Sionn eagerly accepted the job, relieved that his training would be put to good use.

Sylvia spent most of the night talking with the kennel master and playing with the mabari pups Josephine had brought to the party at Dorian’s suggestion. Sylvia, who had been an apprentice halla keeper, spoke with Master Dennett at length about managing his hart and stag mounts. By the party’s conclusion, Sylvia had a mabari pup that imprinted on her and two offers to work - one from Dennet and the other from the kennel master. 

Leliana, Nehn, Falon, Varric and Sera got into a heated archery competition that everyone stopped to watch. Nehn was outclassed by her opponents, but she didn’t embarrass herself. Falon, to his mother’s great pride, had gotten even better in her absence and was holding his own against the others for much of the competition until it turned into taking trick shots. Both Leliana and Cullen were interested in Falon’s skillset, but Nehn had a hissy fit at the idea of her son enlisting. Upon hearing Nehn’s protest, Cullen quickly backed off the idea of recruiting Falon, but Leliana said simply, “We’ll discuss this later, Inquisitor.” 

When Asha couldn’t be right beside her mother, she stayed at the periphery of the party watching. Iron Bull noticed her quiet surveillance and motioned for her to sit with him. Asha approached him cautiously and then asked if his horns were real. Bull laughed heartily and bent over so Asha could touch them. They spent the rest of the night watching the party goers and testing each other’s skills of observation. When Nehn came over to check on them, Bull reported that Asha had the makings of a great spy. “Don’t let Leliana hear you say that. She’s already trying to recruit Falon,” Nehn warned.

Solas touched Nehn’s arm as she collected another cookie from the dessert table. “Is everything alright, da’len?” he asked having noticed minute signs of distress on her face. 

Nehn shook her head and said, “I don’t want to talk about it now and ruin the party. I’ll tell you more later.” 

“As you wish. Tonight then? This time I will try to find you. I’m curious to see how well you can hide,” he remarked.

“How do I do that?” Nehn asked.

“It’s simply a matter of knowing where I am and not being there,” he answered cryptically. 

“Are you ever going to stop being mysterious?” Nehn teased.

“Solved puzzles are no fun - with the possible exception of your little box,” Solas countered with a sly smile.

_That was flirting - wasn’t it? Maybe not. Maybe he was trying to be funny. But his eyes were saying sex. Or maybe that’s my mind. Fenedhis - my hormones are getting the best of me again,_ Nehn thought while breaking off small pieces of her cookie and nibbling on them.

“I thought I had a sweet tooth, but I’ve seen you have a half dozen cookies in the past hour,” Cullen commented.

“Why have you been watching me that closely, Commander?” Nehn said playfully her sugar high helping her get past her usual nerves around Cullen.

“There’s no answer to that question that isn’t incriminating, so I’ll stay silent. I’ve enjoyed meeting your family in person. I felt like I already knew them from all our conversations, though. You did a very good job of describing them - although Falon is much more of a young man than the little boy your tales make him out to be.”

“He’ll always be my baby boy, and you have plenty of archers, Cullen.”

“I wouldn’t dare face your ire for an archer - even one as talented as Falon. Leliana, on the other hand...” 

“Won’t get her claws into him either,” Nehn insisted.

“If you say so... I did have a matter I needed to bring to your attention, Inquisitor. We had some troops go missing about three weeks ago. Two weeks ago, we received a letter from an Avaar tribe in the Fallow Mire claiming to have them as hostages and demanding that you negotiate their release in person.”

“Cullen, are you talking Inquisition business at a party?”

“I...well... yes, I suppose I am. I just don’t want you to be caught off guard when I recommend at War Council that you leave for the Fallow Mire by week’s end,” Cullen stated undeterred by Nehn’s glare.

“You’re telling me - at a party celebrating my children’s arrival - that I need to head out into the field. Children that I haven’t seen for months mind you. Surely, I’m hearing something wrong,” Nehn said with her voice rising in an angry crescendo.

“That is what I’m saying. Our soldiers have been without their families for months as well,” Cullen responded evenly. “And now some of those men and women need you to free them. Would you have them wait in a dungeon, so you can get your visit out?”

“You’re being unfair, Commander,” Nehn hissed. “Send someone else.”

“War is unfair,” Cullen said a bit harshly and then regulated his tone. “Scout Harding is already in the Fallow Mire, and there are rifts blocking the way to the fort where the soldiers are being held. The rifts preclude anyone else from handling the matter. The Inquisition needs to send a clear message that we don’t allow people to take our soldiers hostage.”

“And you had to spring this on me tonight?” Nehn quizzed.

Cullen smirked, “I’ll admit it was a tactical decision. You were much less likely to completely tear into me at a party than in the war room.” When Nehn’s eyes narrowed, Cullen grew more serious and leaned closer to her, “Nehn, I tried to find a way to handle this without you. I know how much you’ve been anticipating this day and spending time with your kids. In all sincerity, my preference would be for you to never leave Skyhold.”

“You never want me to leave Skyhold?” Nehn asked with a flirtatious lilt to her voice.

Cullen realized his slip, “I - uh- ahem - mean that keeping you safe is a priority for the Inquisition.”

“And you.” Nehn said with a slight grin.

“Yes, it’s a priority for me as well. Satisfied?” Cullen said while his ears turned pink.

Nehn smiled and blushed a bit, “Not entirely satisfied since you want to send me off to a bog, but it’s good to know that someone cares what happens to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven  
> da'assan = little arrow (Nehn's nickname for her archery loving son, Falon.)  
> Ir abelas. = I'm sorry.
> 
> Poor Nehn - just as soon as she gets her flirt on - something gets in the way.


	31. Chapter 31

Nehn watched two elven girls track a deer through the forest. The older one pointed to trail signs while the younger one had her bow half drawn as she crept silently through the underbrush. With the buck in her sights, the young girl stood tall, pulled her bow taut, and let her arrow fly. The arrow found its target, and the buck fell dead.

“A fine shot,” Solas commented, “Who are they?”

Nehn glanced up at him. “The little one is me. The other girl is my sister. This memory is of my first successful hunt.”

“You were quite young to be hunting in the forest alone.”

“My sister and I wanted to be prepared, so we practiced every chance we could get.”

“Prepared to be hunters?” Solas asked.

“No, we wanted to be ready to survive on our own if no clan took us in.”

“What happened to her, da’len?”

“We both found placements at Arlathvhen. She left with a clan that primarily travels in Nevarra, and I went to Lavellan. I thought I’d never be without a clan when Deshanna took me as First.”

“Without a clan?” Solas questioned.

Nehn motioned for him to sit beside her. “I should apologize first for not hiding better, hahren. The truth is I wanted to be found.”

“You can try again another night. It seems our time would be more wisely spent talking right now. What is on your mind?”

“Sylvia brought a letter from Deshanna with her.” Nehn took a deep breath before continuing. “We have been expelled from our clan because of my association with the Inquisition.”

“I know how much your clan means to you. That letter must have been difficult to read,” Solas said empathetically.

“Everything I’ve done in the past year -in the past twenty years- has been for the clan’s benefit. I’ve never once made a choice where I didn’t consider their well being. I’m not saying that I’ve always made the best decisions, but the intentions behind them were always pure,” Nehn began.

“Deshanna accused me of turning against my beliefs, my people because I’m leading the Inquisition and working with humans. I had no choice, Solas. Cooperating with them was the only way that I could protect not only my clan but Thedas. I couldn’t stand by and watch people die when I had a way to help,” Nehn pleaded.

Solas’ heart clenched at her words. He knew the pain she was feeling - that of being rejected by the very people you sacrificed everything to help. 

“You needn’t convince me of the necessity of your actions, da’len. I know what we face. I am sorry for Deshanna’s reaction, but I am not surprised. The Dalish have always been quick to judge and disinclined to think beyond their own limited views. I had hoped that their prejudice wouldn’t turn them against you.”

“Don’t talk about the Dalish like that. They’re still my people,” Nehn huffed.

“You still defend them even after they reject you?” Solas countered.

“Always. I will always fight for them. They are my people even if they don’t recognize me as such,” Nehn said an edge of determination to her voice.

Her statement was like a knife in Solas’ chest, and in that moment, he considered sharing his own story of trying to protect only to be branded a traitor. His fear of her reaction held him back. Instead he opted to remind her of why she was important.

“Come with me. I wish to show you something,” Solas said while offering his hand to Nehn.

“Where are we going?”

“Haven,” Solas answered.

“Why Haven? I’m not sure I want to see it.”

“We won’t be visiting how it is now, but how it was before the attack, da’len. 

“Let’s go then,” Nehn said while taking Solas’ hand. The Fade swirled around them, and they were outside Haven’s chantry. The Breach filled the sky with a menacing green tint, and Nehn could smell the fir trees in the crisp, cold breeze that moved around her. Solas noticed her shivering, and a coat appeared on her.

“Nice trick, hahren,” Nehn joshed. “Can you show me how you stay warm even with your toes exposed and no coat?”

“Another time, perhaps ,” Solas grinned. “It takes some fairly complicated spellweaving although I’m sure you could master it with practice. Truly it is much more practical to just wear a coat and boots.”

“But you never wear them,” Nehn noted.

“Consider it an affectation. I’d hate to diminish my ‘hobo chic’ by putting on something as mundane as a coat,” Solas teased.

“Dorian really gets to you - doesn’t he?” Nehn asked.

“Dorian would like to think he does, but I consider our banter an interesting amusement. He’s rather quick witted when his vanity doesn’t consume his thoughts. But enough about our compatriots. We’re here because of you, da’len.”

As Solas led Nehn around Haven, he described the days immediately after the Breach opened and she fell from it unconscious. The desperation and frustration he felt at not being able to wake her or control the mark’s expansion was evident in his voice as he mentioned that Cassandra threatened to have him killed if he didn’t get results.

“Cassandra’s like that with everyone,” Nehn admitted and Solas chuckled.

He continued recounting his thoughts and experiences as they walked toward the frozen lake outside Haven. “You were never going to wake up. How could you? A mortal sent physically through the Fade. I resigned myself to try one last time to seal a rift, but no ordinary magic would suffice. And then...”

The scene around Nehn and Solas changed, and she could see him grasping her hand and helping her seal the first rift. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation,” he said reiterating a statement he’d made when they first met.

“That wasn’t how it happened,” Nehn argued as the Fade again changed to lakeside at Haven. “You weren’t that gentle. I had a bruise on my wrist for a week from where you grabbed it.”

“An excellent illustration of how truth varies with the observer. I apologize. I did not intend to harm you, but I was quite excited to see if you would be able to help. You see in that moment, I felt the whole world change.”

Nehn stepped closer to Solas. “Felt the whole world change?” she asked wondering if he meant what is sounded like he did.

“A figure of speech,” he equivocated.

“I’m aware of the metaphor. I was concentrating more on _felt_ ,” Nehn said not allowing him to evade so easily.

Solas regarded her intently and said quietly, “You change _everything_.”

Nehn’s stomach fluttered, and she scrambled for words to respond. “Sweet talker,” she said using the same phrase for Solas that she had often applied to Garel. Feeling emboldened by being in the Fade, Nehn turned Solas’ chin toward her and gave him a small, chaste kiss.

He backed away from her shaking his head, and she thought that she had somehow misinterpreted his words. But then he stopped, gathered her in his arms, and kissed her with a ferocity that left her breathless. He disengaged for a moment, stared at her with a look of wanton need, shook his head, and then kissed her again - more tenderly.

“No, this isn’t right,” he said while moving away from her. “Not even here. Forgive me, the kiss was impulsive and ill-considered.”

“Funny, I thought it just had a lot of tongue,” Nehn flirted.

“It did not,” Solas argued - clearly embarrassed.

“Oh, I guess it doesn’t count if it’s Fade tongue,” Nehn quipped.

“I am not certain that this is the best idea. It could lead to trouble,” Solas said hesitantly.

“I like a little trouble every now and then,” Nehn said while sliding closer to him. “I’m willing to take that risk if you are.”

Solas looked panicked as she drew near. “I ... maybe... if I could take a little time to think. There are ... considerations.”

Nehn’s mind flashed to the early days of her marriage with Garel. _The gods are getting even with me for making him wait so long._ “Take all the time you need,” she soothed. _Please be more decisive that I was,_ she thought while her heart raced.

“Thank you,” Solas exhaled and regained his typical composure, “I am not often thrown by what happens in dreams, but you ... you are extraordinarily unpredictable.”

“And a good kisser. Don’t forget that while you make up your mind. See you tomorrow, Solas,” Nehn said as she exited his dream.

**********************

Upon waking, Nehn sat up in bed and put her fingers to her lips. She wanted to squeal, but Asha was asleep beside her clutching a ragged looking grey halla. Nehn was too excited to sit still, so she slid out from under the covers hoping that she wouldn’t disturb her daughter’s rest.

“Mamae, where are you going?” Asha said sleepily.

“Just for a walk. Rest now. There are a few hours still before the dawn,” Nehn said while patting Asha reassuringly.

Asha snuggled up to her stuffed halla and fell back asleep.

Nehn put a robe around herself and quietly exited her quarters. She glided across the great hall and went to the annex where some of her advisors and companions slept. As she walked past guards, they all snapped up straight and said, “Inquisitor,” but none of them stopped her or asked where she was going. Finally, she found herself outside Dorian’s room. She knocked lightly on the door to no response. Testing the handle, she found it was unlocked and let herself in.

“Dorian?” she whispered.

Dorian sat up groggily and waved his wrist to light a candle. Nehn giggled upon seeing that his face was slathered with a thick white lotion and his hair was swathed in a silk scarf. Hoping not to wake Solas who slept in the room next to Dorian’s, Nehn bit her knuckle to stop her laughing.

“Did you come here in the middle of the night to snicker at me, or do you have a reason for intruding?” Dorian harrumphed while getting out of bed and wiping off his face.

Nehn was still struggling to keep a straight face and gestured for Dorian to remove his do-rag. She couldn’t take him seriously with the hot pink silk scarf wound around his head. Yanking it off in exasperation, Dorian sat on the edge of his bed cursing in Tevene and pulled on a pair of trousers over his small clothes.

“You still haven’t answered me,” he said while watching Nehn try to compose herself.

“I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just...” Nehn had to bite her knuckle again to stave off a guffaw. Shaking her head and taking a deep breath, Nehn blabbered, “I’m sorry to wake you, but I had to talk to someone. I thought about waking Sylvia, but then that would be weird - wouldn’t it? Who wants to talk to their mom about her romantic life? And I’m still scarred from giving her ‘the talk’ a few years back. Fenedhis, I’ll probably need to do a refresher with her now that she is getting married. I refuse to do it sober this time, though...”

“Nehn,” Dorian interrupted, “You’re doing that thing where you say everything that’s coming to your mind. Could you perhaps edit your thoughts down to the strictly germane?”

“Sorry, I ramble when I’m excited. I kissed him a little, and then he kissed me a lot - with tongue even though he tried to deny it later. And then he said he wasn’t sure, but that must be only his head because the rest of him felt pretty solidly behind the idea.” Nehn summarized.

“Who is this person you were kissing?” Dorian asked hoping that it might somehow be Cullen after noticing them talking at the party.

“Solas,” Nehn said slightly apologetically because she knew Dorian didn’t particularly care for him.

“Let me guess. You did it in the Fade,” Dorian said.

“Well, not _it_ it, but we kissed in the Fade tonight,” Nehn said with a smile and a slight bounce to punctuate the sentence.

“Not exactly my first choice for you, but who am I to judge? What are you doing here with me, and not say next door?” 

“I’m not going to hop directly in his bed after one kiss. Really it was more like one and a half kisses. But still we’re not having sex right away. Maybe never. He said he wasn’t sure.”

“Maker’s breath, woman, sit down and calm down. I need a drink,” Dorian said while rummaging around his bookshelf and finding a flask he had hidden behind a book on elemental spells.

Nehn sat down on a chair in the corner of the room and thrummed her fingers on the armrests. Dorian took a long drink from his flask and then pointed a finger at Nehn. “You’re tapping your fingers. It’s agitating me. Stop.”

“Sorry,” Nehn apologized and then unconsciously began shaking her leg.

Dorian sat back down on his bed and rubbed his face a few times, “Okay, so you were in the Fade, and you kissed Solas.”

“Yes. He’d said something very sweet, so I gave him a little peck on the lips.”

“And then he kissed you **one and a half times** after that?” Dorian said while emphasizing the number because he found it hilarious that she would quantify kisses.

“Yes, but with tongue.” Nehn added.

“Oh, yes, let’s not forget the tongue,” Dorian added feeling slightly sickened by the notion of Solas tonguing anyone. “Well, bully for you I suppose.”

“No, not bully. He stopped and then said he needed time to think. That maybe it wasn’t a good idea,” Nehn said.

“If someone tells you that being with them is a bad idea, they’re probably right, and you should heed the warning,” Dorian replied and then noticed Nehn looking at him sheepishly, “But from the puppy dog eyes you’re giving me, you aren’t going to listen. So instead I’ll ask - what do you plan to do?” 

“That’s why I’m here. I’m consulting you. You’re my Tevinter love guru.”

“We can talk about the wisdom of taking love advice from a man whose relationships rarely last longer than a night at another time. I think you should pay attention to that red flag that’s waving in front of him, and stop this before it starts.”

“But I don’t want to stop it,” Nehn challenged, “I like him.”

Dorian groaned. “Then I suppose you’ll just have to be patient, although I wouldn’t give him too much time to ruminate. I doubt our strapping templar would string you along under similar circumstances, but you’ve already explained your hesitation about him.”

Nehn sighed. “That hesitation is now a moot point. Deshanna sent a letter along with the children. We have been kicked out of the clan for all intents and purposes. Oddly enough, a contributing factor is a widely-circulated rumor that you and I are involved.”

“We can counter that, Nehn. You don’t have to accept losing your clan over a misunderstanding.”

“If you heard how she tried to manipulate my children into staying, you would understand why I no longer want to go back - not while she is in charge at least.”

“I’m sorry. I know how much they meant to you. Can I just say that I really don’t like this Keeper Deshanna? She seems like a complete bitch.”

“That’s the worst part. She isn’t really. She can be a little narcissistic, but she isn’t a bad person. She thinks she’s protecting the clan. It just hurts that she thinks I’m someone they need to be shielded from.”

“You’re taking this news from your clan pretty well. Too well in my opinion. Have you really thought about what this means?”

“I can’t let myself dwell, Dorian. If I allow myself to really think about it, I’ll be too sad to function. I just have to endure and keep moving forward.”

“I hope that works for you, but I’ll be here if if doesn’t,” Dorian promised.


	32. Chapter 32

Nehn left Dorian’s room and returned to her own. Cuddling up to Asha, she thought about her clan and blinked away tears as she fell into a restless sleep. When morning came, she got dressed and had breakfast with her family before heading downstairs for the war council. As she started toward Josephine’s office and the war room, Mother Giselle blocked her path.

“Is there something I can do for you, Mother Giselle?” Nehn asked barely hiding her irritation.

Giselle produced a letter that she claimed was from Dorian’s father. He was hoping Dorian would consider returning home to Tevinter or at least listen to an emissary he had sent to Redcliffe. Giselle encouraged Nehn to trick Dorian into meeting with the emissary, and Nehn had to use nearly all her willpower not to curse at the woman in the middle of the great hall. In the end, Nehn took the letter and said that she would handle the matter. 

Leliana pounced on Nehn as soon as she entered Josephine’s office. “I want to speak to you about Falon, Inquisitor. Let my scouts and spies train him. In a year’s time, he will make a useful asset to the Inquisition. Elves are able to blend into the background as servants in noble houses - the perfect spies.”

“No. He is my son - not an Inquisition asset. Besides he will be assisting Sionn and learning how to make weapons and arms.”

“I didn’t get the impression that his passion was crafting,” Leliana pressed as Cullen and Josephine entered the room.

“I find it interesting that you presume to know my son so well after meeting him just last night,” Nehn snapped and strode toward the war room.

“My agents have been training him already, Inquisitor. They have been teaching him ever since we first sent them to your clan as envoys. Did you think his archery skills improved so markedly on their own?” Leliana called out.

“You had no business interfering with my family, Leliana,” Nehn raged. Cullen’s sword hand twitched when he saw how tense things were becoming between the Inquisitor and her spymaster, but he kept his hand at his side.

“Falon asked for their help.” Leliana said coolly. “He also told my agents that he only continued his apprenticeship as a craftsman because of you.”

Cullen could sense Nehn drawing magic from the Fade and was worried that she might be preparing to attack. Instead she directed it to herself and seemed in better control of her emotions afterward. _Did she just use some sort of calming magic?_ Cullen wondered. Nehn breathed deeply before speaking. “In the future, I ask that you consult me first before authorizing anything related to my family.”

“As you wish, Inquisitor,” Leliana replied. 

Nehn took a few steps away and then turned to face Leliana again. “There is something you can do, however. My children and I have been expelled from Clan Lavellan because of my position with the Inquisition and gossip that I was involved with a human. I want to know the origin of the tale and how it reached my clan.”

Leliana didn’t seem surprised by Nehn’s revelation and promised to look into the matter.

Cullen was dumbstruck by the exchange. He had no idea that Nehn had been thrown out of her clan, or that her being with a human could have such consequences. Feeling guilty, he wondered if their frequent chess games were the source of the hearsay. As he thought more about the rumor’s origin, he grew concerned. When they were deciding who to appoint as Inquisitor, Leliana had been worried that Nehn’s loyalties were split between the Inquisition and her clan. The spymaster sometimes ran smear campaigns against their enemies, but would she do that to an ally? He resolved to look into the matter further on his own. 

The war council was tense, but the majority of the Inquisition’s business was quickly and methodically resolved under Nehn’s terse direction. Cullen had yet to make his recommendation for Nehn to leave for the Fallow Mire. Clearing his throat and cursing his timing, he brought the matter forward. To his surprise, the Inquisitor agreed to leave in three days time without any discussion. With no further matters to attend, Nehn dismissed the meeting and then asked Cullen to walk with her.

Cullen didn’t know what to say exactly, so he blurted out the thing weighing most heavily on his mind. “If our chess matches were the cause of the rumors, I’m so sorry for the trouble they caused.”

Nehn stopped mid-stride and addressed Cullen in utter disbelief. “Oh, you sweet thing, the rumors were about Dorian - not you.”

Cullen was bewildered. “But I thought... I mean I assumed that Dorian’s preferences were... never mind. You aren’t together - are you?”

“It isn’t my place to comment on his preferences, but I assure you that we are _definitely_ not together.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Cullen exhaled with obvious relief and then looked mortified at having done so.

_Mythal’s mercy, he’s adorable. How can he command an army yet stumble so when speaking to me?_ Nehn mused and then had an idea. _I wonder if he’s a virgin. I could swear I read that templars are often celibate. Nehn, stop pondering his sex life, and speak to him._

“Oh, right, I need to request a favor, Commander.” Nehn stated in her most business like voice and started walking across the great hall.

“What is it?” Cullen asked glad that Nehn was no longer looking at him like he’d grown two heads.

“I’m concerned about Falon. He is a young man enamored with the idea of being a hero - not unlike yourself at the same age from what you’ve said. He knows nothing of battle and bloodshed, but he will be living in a fortress full of spies and soldiers. I can’t expect to keep him sheltered. Leliana’s methods, while effective, are at times very dark. I was hoping that you might guide him if he wants to pursue becoming a scout.”

When Cullen didn’t immediately respond, Nehn got concerned that she had overstepped. “You don’t have to by any means. I just ...” _really wish I had never brought this up. It would be really great if you could say something, Cullen._

Cullen hadn’t expected her request and was considering it carefully before responding. Once he came up with an action plan, he spoke. “Falon is too young to join our regular forces. I could put him to work as a runner and medic’s assistant, though. Being a runner will keep him occupied and working with our medics will help him grasp the reality of war. His bow skills are excellent, and I wouldn’t want him to get out of practice. He could drill with our archers to stay sharp. It wouldn’t hurt for him to pick up map reading and basic blade skills as well.”

“You’d do that?” Nehn questioned. _I guess he was thinking before he spoke. I should try that sometime._ Passing through Solas study, she gave a cursory wave to the elf and kept walking with Cullen toward his office. Solas’ eyes flashed jealously as they left. 

“I wouldn’t train him personally, but I would keep an eye on his progress. There are some conditions that I would require if he were to be under my command. Falon would receive no special treatment. He would be subject to the same expectations and rules as my men - with the exception of being allowed to sleep in his current room. Your family’s quarters are the most closely guarded part of Skyhold. Sleeping in the barracks would present too much of a security risk.”

“He wouldn’t want special treatment although I would appreciate it you could give me updates on how he is doing when I’m gone. Even just a sentence in your regular reports would put my mind at ease. I’m confused, though, what do you mean by _security risk_?” Nehn asked while Cullen opened the door to his office for her.

Cullen clarified, “As your son, he is more likely to be targeted by assassins and hostage takers than our regular soldiers. The barracks are secure enough for them, but not him.”

Nehn paled when Cullen mentioned assassins. She’d brought her family to Skyhold to keep them safe. He noticed her worried look and said, “I don’t think attacks against your family are likely. It’s just best that we don’t make them easy.”

“I’ll speak with him tonight, but I’d be surprised if he isn’t reporting to you tomorrow morning. Thank you for agreeing to help. You have no idea what it means to me that Falon will have a good man watching over him.”

Cullen was astonished that she thought of him as a good man. He wondered if she’d feel the same way about him if she knew details of his life as a templar. Still he was trying to be a better man perhaps that counted for something. 

“There’s one other thing,” Nehn said wincing at how much she was asking of Cullen. “I’d like your advice on Asha.”

“Asha?” Cullen said while wondering what advice she expected from him on a little girl.

“She is a mage, and quite new to her abilities. I would like your recommendations on her training. Asha has already shown a natural affinity for elemental spells. She just needs more focus...”

Cullen felt the beginnings of a very bad headache. Young mages were nearly always disasters waiting to happen, and the templar in him worried about the amount of damage Asha could cause in Skyhold. He loathed dealing with child mages when he was a templar. They were so needy and emotional - not to mention unpredictable and potentially dangerous. 

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door, and Asha was standing outside beaming with pride.

“Mamae, I’m sorry to interrupt, but when you’re finished I want to show you a spell Hahren Solas just taught me.

“Solas taught you a spell?” Nehn asked. “Cullen, do you mind? I’m curious what she learned.”

Cullen motioned for Asha to go ahead.

She gestured and all the candles went out in the room.

“Very good!” Nehn chirped. “That’s a very inventive use of a force spell.”

“But I’m not finished, Mamae. Watch!” Asha relit all the candles, but she overcharged her spell and created torch-like flames. Nehn quickly dispelled the magic and extinguished the smoking candles. Wordlessly and calmly, she then opened the three doors leading into Cullen’s office to let out the smoke.

“Solas taught you how to conjure fire. I’ll have to thank him for that,” Nehn said through clenched teeth. Speaking to Asha, Nehn instructed, “You did well. Fire is difficult to manage. Just don’t practice using it without a mage that can dispel nearby. Now go get the Commander new candles from the Quartermaster. You’ve used his up.”

When Asha had left, Nehn turned back to Cullen who had sunk into his chair after remembering all the fires he’d put out and ice slicks he’d fallen on when he was a templar assigned to young mages. “So like I said I could use some recommendations on her training,” Nehn admitted with a sheepish grin.

“If this were a Circle, a templar would be ordered to shadow her full time until she had better mastery. I doubt that you or your mage allies would agree to such a solution. How do the Dalish handle young mages?”

“In general, they receive one-on-one instruction from the Keeper. In my birth clan, there was always a surplus of mages. We’d all follow the Keeper or his First hoping to absorb what we could, but we weren’t formally trained by them. Deshanna taught me pretty much everything I know,” Nehn said caught off guard by the lump in her throat that formed when talking about her former Keeper.

“Perhaps you could speak with Grand Enchanter Fiona. She would surely have some ideas,” Cullen suggested.

“I don’t trust her judgment. She did ally with Alexius after all. I was hoping that you had maybe noticed some competent, patient mages that could be designated to teach Asha.”

“What makes you think I pay close enough attention to the mages here to make such an assessment?” Cullen asked defensively.

Nehn merely arched her eyebrow and waited. 

Cullen grunted, rubbed the stubble on his chin, and took out a piece of parchment. He wrote down the names and area of study of four different mages. “If she were my daughter, these are the people I would want in charge of her instruction.”

Nehn gave him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. “I knew you’d know who to ask. I promise I won’t tell them the source of the recommendation.” For several minutes after their exchange, Cullen sat in stunned silence wondering about the effect that Nehn had over him. He’d agreed to go against Leliana’s wishes _Really who does that and lives?_ and see that Falon was trained under his direction. He’d more or less admitted that he still kept a watchful eye on all the mages in Skyhold. And he hadn’t even argued the point that Asha should be assigned a full time templar rather than allowed to flit around Skyhold setting random fires. “Maker’s breath!” he said and put his head in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, in case you're wondering our trickster Solas intentionally interrupted Nehn's meeting with Cullen by teaching Asha a spell and directing her toward her mother. Sneaky elf.


	33. Chapter 33

Cullen had just started clearing some of the stacks of paperwork on his desk when he heard a faint knock. “I’ve an open door policy during daylight hours. No need to knock,” he called out thinking it would be a new runner that didn’t know his habits. Instead it was Asha carrying a box of candles.

“I’m sorry about burning up your candles. I got you some new ones,” Asha said while making fleeting eye contact. Standing on her tiptoes, she tried to reach the sconces to change out the candles, but she was too short. Cullen watched her marveling at how much she resembled Nehn in appearance and mannerisms. It was almost eerie.

“I can replace those later. Thank you for bringing them,” Cullen said when he noticed that Asha couldn’t do it on her own.

“No, I’ll get in trouble with Mamae if I don’t fix it myself. Could I borrow your chair?” Asha asked.

Cullen stood and walked the chair over to her. She grinned widely, and he noticed that she had a big dimple in one of her cheeks. Pushing the chair against the wall, she climbed up and replaced a candle. Cullen returned to his desk and resumed his paperwork while Asha scooted the chair around the room, putting fresh candles in the wall sconces. When she finished, she brought the chair back to Cullen and wiped off the seat with the sleeve of her robe.

She looked at him intently, and he began to wonder if he had something caught in his teeth or a booger in his nose. “Can I help you?” he questioned.

“Not right now, but Mamae said that I should come to you if I ever need help when she’s not here and Sylvia is busy. Is that okay?” Asha asked.

“I suppose it is. She really told you that?”

“Yes, she said that if I was scared that I should go to you. If I was confused about people, I should go to Ambassador Josephine and that I shouldn’t bother Lady Leliana because she’s very busy.”

“I see.” Cullen commented.

Asha regarded him for a moment longer, picked up the box she had filled with the remnants of the candles she’d torched, and pattered over to the door that led toward the bridge to Solas’ study. “Well, bye. Sorry about the candles,” she said over her shoulder before departing. 

********************

Nehn spent much of her day interviewing the four mages Cullen had recommended as instructors for Asha. She was impressed. They were knowledgeable, caring, and calm. Between the four of them, Asha would receive well rounded instruction in the major disciplines of magic. Nehn’s sole reservation about them was that they were Circle trained. She didn’t want Asha adopting any of the “magic is a curse” ideas that pervaded the southern Chantry. Fortunately, none of the potential teachers felt that way about their own magic. 

After making arrangements for Asha to begin her instruction the next morning, Nehn felt very tired and a little sad. Trusting other people to look after her baby was not easy. The sun was setting when Nehn realized that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Feeling her stomach churn, Nehn decided that she’d stop by the tavern for a quick meal. She was surprised to find Asha sitting beside Iron Bull and talking with Krem and Rocky, Bull’s demolitions expert. 

While Nehn loved Bull and his Chargers, they were a bit rough around the edges. Nehn wasn’t quite sure that Asha had any business being in the tavern, but she figured Asha didn’t know that it wasn’t a place for children. It wasn’t as if their clan had one. Asha had probably gotten hungry or bored and went somewhere that looked interesting. _Maybe Josephine had a point about getting a governess. Skyhold isn’t exactly child friendly._

“Mamae, did you know you don’t need magic to blow things up?” Asha asked excitedly.

“I did know that,” Nehn said and then looked pointedly at Rocky, “But handling explosives is not for children.” 

Rocky was visibly disappointed by Nehn’s statement while Krem said, “Told you so,” then took a long drink from his bottle of beer.

Bull motioned for Nehn to sit beside him which she did after ordering some stew. “Boss, I hope you aren’t upset to find the squirt here. I saw her wander in and thought it would be best if I kept an eye on her. Have you thought about getting someone to watch her when we’re gone?”

“I had thought her sister and brother would look after her, but Sylvia is working in our kennels and stables while Falon will likely become a runner for Cullen. I’ve arranged for people to tutor her in magic, but I probably need someone to watch her in general. It’s different in the clan. We all look out for each other’s children. I don’t know if I’ll ever fully adapt to living this way,” Nehn said then got emotional and quiet.

“You’re doing good, Boss. Dorian told me about the crap that went down with your clan. You deserve better. Can’t be easy letting your boy join up either. You okay?”

“No, not really, but I will be. I just have to adjust. This year has had a lot of changes. I’m still getting used to my glowing hand - much less leading a movement or having my babies grow up. I mean Sylvia is getting married soon. I could be a grandmother this time next year.”

“You would be the hottest grandma ever,” Bull joked which made Nehn laugh.

“Thanks, Bull. You always put things in perspective for me,” Nehn said while patting his arm.

“Sometime when the squirt isn’t around, I want to introduce you to my crew.”

“Looking to recruit me into the Chargers, Bull? I’ve got a little thing of my own going, but I’d like to see what your crew is about,” Nehn teased.

After finishing supper and discussing not going to the tavern without an adult, Nehn left Asha with her sister. She then told Falon about the opportunity to work under Cullen. His excitement about getting the chance to pursue archery and learn about being a soldier told Nehn she had made the right choice even if it was killing her. After saying goodnight to her family, Nehn decided to go talk to Solas. He was painting a mural when she walked into his study.

Folding her arms she said, “Explain to me how Asha ended up learning how to conjure fire.”

Solas looked over his shoulder briefly at Nehn and then returned to his artwork. “She came here looking for you and wanting to discuss magic. I thought it time she learned something as basic as how to cast fire.”

“I had been specifically avoiding teaching her that skill until she had better control. Her freezing ponds and frost coating halla caused enough issues with the clan. Now I have to worry that she’ll burn down Skyhold.”

“I’ll teach her how to dispel and extinguish tomorrow. She is a quick study like her mother. It is no concern.”

Nehn walked around where she could look at Solas eye to eye. “It took me months to learn how to dispel. She won’t get it in a day no matter how smart she is. You should have known better, Solas. If this was your idea of a prank, I don’t find it funny.”

Solas put down his paintbrush and palette. “You are right. I apologize. Teaching her how to make fire was ill-considered.”

“ _Ill-considered_ seems to be your phrase of the day,” Nehn snapped remembering he had said the same thing about their kiss. “Wait, I’m sorry. I said I’d give you space, and I will. I just...” 

“Have a great deal on your mind. I’m not upset with you, da’len, and I appreciate your giving me time. I’m used to a more deliberate pace when making decisions” Solas said evenly.

“Unless they involve teaching a young mage how to make fire. You did that pretty spur of the moment,” Nehn countered with annoyance.

“As I said, I will show her how to dispel tomorrow. If she can’t master it, I’ll have Cole help her forget how to cast fire.”

“Fenedhis! I don’t want Cole messing with Asha’s mind,” Nehn retorted while putting her hands to her temples. Her conversation with Solas and the day’s other events had given her a raging headache.

“Please, sit.” Solas commanded while pointing to the chaise. Nehn complied, and he sat beside her. “You are rather stressed, da’len.”

“Well, a large portion of that is due to you.”

“Then let me help,” Solas said then conjured a healing spell after Nehn nodded her assent. 

As his magic seeped over her, Nehn leaned back against his chest and sighed, “I’m so tired.” 

“Then rest, da’len. I will watch over you.” 

Nehn’s breathing became steady and slow as she fell fast asleep leaning against him. When she was clearly resting, Solas lightly kissed the top of her head and wished there was a god he could pray to for guidance. He had already allowed himself to become too attached to her. The implausibility of it all made him chuckle, and Nehn stirred nearly waking before turning and cuddling closer to him. 

Laying his head on the back of the chaise and wrapping his arms around Nehn, Solas thought about how nothing was going according to plan. He’d awakened to find a world upended by his actions and too weak to set things right. Then in a moment of shortsighted idiocy, he had given his power to someone that now sought to make things worse. How had he not even seen that possibility? And now, he was cradling a woman marked by his magic, pledged to Sylaise ( _at least it wasn’t Andruil_ ) wondering how he could manage to both have her and fix his errors. Love and duty - did they have to be mutually exclusive?

Tracing Nehn’s cheek with his finger, he thought if anyone could understand his choices it would be her. She was extraordinary, and it frustrated and delighted him how quickly she saw through his schemes. To have someone that was his near equal in cunning was invigorating. In truth, one of the things he missed most about Elvehnan was the intricate machinations of the power struggles between the gods. And he’d been in the middle of it all, acting as friend and advisor while working toward his own ends. _Not unlike what you’re doing now_ his conscience reminded him, but he pushed that thought aside. It was different this time. He wasn’t led by arrogance and ego anymore - was he?

Nehn snuggled closer to him and her hand gripped his wolf jaw amulet. Who was he kidding but himself? Of course he was still acting out of pride. What other reason would explain endangering her child just to disrupt what was no doubt a simple meeting on Inquisition matters? And even if it were more than that, what claim did he have to her? _Jealous fool_ he chastised himself.

No, nothing would go according to plan because he’d already made the mistake of caring for her. Holding her more tightly, he promised himself he would end things between them tomorrow -decisively and definitively, and then slipped into the Fade to find his vhenan. 

Nehn woke up a few hours later with a crick in her neck and an aching hand. _Elgar’nan! I didn’t mean to fall asleep._ Extricating herself from Solas’ arms, she examined her hand and saw an imprint from the wolf jaw amulet. _You’re lucky that didn’t break the skin._ Nehn turned back and looked at Solas who was snoring lightly with his head bent at an odd angle from sleeping upright. A grin crept across her face seeing him dead to the world with his mouth hanging open - not quite the imposing figure he struck most of the time. She debated whether to wake him and decided that he might get sore if she let him stay in that position. 

“Solas, wake up,” she whispered while shaking his arm and leaning over him. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her with momentary confusion before regaining his typical regal air. “I think we both nodded off,” she explained.

“Yes, I suppose we did. We should talk,” he said. _Don’t let this go a step further. You cannot afford to become distracted._

“Tomorrow. I need to make sure Asha got to sleep okay,” Nehn answered while patting his knee and standing up.

“Tomorrow,” he echoed knowing he’d lose his resolve to end things when he saw her again.


	34. Chapter 34

“Varric, I thought I told you that I hated being wet,” Nehn complained.

“I do seem to remember you saying something about that when we were on the Storm Coast, Sassy. You aren’t blaming me for the weather here are you?” Varric teased back.

“No, but you could have at least told me to bring an extra pair of boots. Mine are all squishy on the inside and smell like the innards of a vulture.”

“Hey, Sassy ....” Varric waited until Nehn turned toward him. “Bring a change of boots the next time you head to a bog.”

Nehn made a gesture with her hands which caused Solas to snicker.

“Did she just flip the elven version of the bird at you?” Bull asked.

Nehn made the same gesture to Bull.

“Is that a threat or a promise, Boss? I’ll take either. I’m flexible like that,” Bull joked while Solas glared at him.

“You get rather agitated when wet - like a cat,” Cassandra commented, and Nehn rolled her eyes.

Nehn stopped and tried to get her bearings. They had been in the Fallow Mire for the past three days. She’d closed some rifts, battled scores of demons, met an Avaar shaman, and seen more plague ridden putrid corpses than she thought imaginable. And she’d been wet, cold, and miserable the entire time. 

“I have no fucking clue where we are,” she announced. “I could swear that I’ve seen that particular corpse before, though.”

“Perhaps we should return to the boardwalk,” Solas suggested.

“Perhaps you should stop hinting at things and just say them,” Nehn snarled.

“Perhaps you two could just get a room already,” Sera snipped which led to icy stares from both Nehn and Solas.

“Or not,” Dorian said and then sashayed over to Nehn. “You’re getting rather snarky, Nehn dear. We could backtrack to camp, warm up, and try again in the morning. Who knows? Maybe it will have stopped raining by then.”

Nehn was about to agree when she saw a windmill in the distance. “What’s that?” she said and took off running toward it.

“Stay out of the ... water. Crap ... too late. Bianca, looks like we’re going to be busy,” Varric commented as corpses in the fetid water became animated and then attacked.

After battling the walking dead, they found themselves surrounded by wisps and demons. “And the fun just keeps coming,” Varric said through gritted teeth.

When the fighting was finally over, Nehn scavenged the bodies and held up an odd glowing substance triumphantly.

“What is that, and why are you happy to have it?” Cassandra said with her nose curled in disgust.

“Wisp essence. My third one. I can make a spirit blade now. Looks like I’ll be a Knight Enchanter,” Nehn announced.

“You’re making the decision on your specialization based solely on which materials you gathered first?” Dorian questioned.

“Do you have a better idea, or are you just upset that I didn’t find my quota of Nevarran skulls to be a necromancer?”

“No, not upset in the least. I rather prefer being the only necromancer in the party. It just seems a bit odd that you -the pacifist- would follow the most blatantly aggressive path.”

“It is interesting that you would note that, Dorian,” Solas commented. “Knight Enchanters use techniques derived from ancient elven arcane warriors. Some called the approach ‘Ghilan’him Banal’vhen’ - the path that leads astray.” 

“So you’re saying that some elves looked down on them?” Nehn asked.

“Many that followed the Vir Atish’an did. They felt the physicality and brutality of the discipline was at odds with the path to peace,” Solas explained.

“Can I follow the Vir Atish’an and be a Knight Enchanter?” Nehn worried aloud.

“The price for peace is often paid in blood, da’len. The arcane warriors’ techniques were also called ‘Dirth’ena Enasalin’ - the knowledge that leads to victory. With proper instruction and your indomitable will, you would be able to shape your body into the perfect weapon for the fight against Corypheus.”

“Your body being a weapon. That’s hot,” Bull enthused.

“Do you ever stop thinking about sex, Bull?” Nehn needled.

“Only when I’m killing things, although sometimes I think about it when I’m doing that, too,” Bull deadpanned.

Nehn shook her head and sighed. “Dorian is right. Let’s head back to camp now, and try again in the morning.”

The next day they found the fortress where the Avaar held the Inquisition soldiers. After a raucous fight with the Avaar chieftain’s son, Nehn and her team found and freed the captured troops. Nehn beamed when she saw the relief on the faces of the men and women. “Totally worth dragging my ass through a bog,” she commented to Varric who winked his agreement.

Half of Nehn’s team left for Skyhold with the former prisoners since many were injured or ill. Nehn, Sera, Dorian, and Cassandra turned north to Redcliffe to follow up on business and meet the envoy from Dorian’s family. After sending a scout to buy them new gear and bathing repeatedly in a stream near Dennett’s farm, Nehn and her friends joyously burned the ruined clothing that had seen them through the Fallow Mire while sipping on honeyed wine.

As the flames died down, Cassandra stretched and announced that she would be going to her tent while Nehn, Sera, and Dorian promised to make sure that her share of the wine didn’t go to waste. Once the wine was nearly finished, Nehn took out her parchment and started to write a letter.

“Don’t you think its weird to write a dead person?” Sera questioned tactlessly.

Nehn gave her a withering look and went back to writing.

“I’m serious. You scribble something almost every night, but it’s not like he can read it,” Sera continued. 

“Leave her be, Sera,” Dorian corrected.

“It’s not normal,” Sera retorted. 

Nehn shot up and fade stepped directly in front of where Sera was sitting. Electricity crackled through the air as Nehn bent over and stared directly into Sera’s eyes. “Not another word,” Nehn warned.

“Or what? You’ll write your dead husband, and he’ll haunt me?” Sera shouted causing Cassandra to bolt out of her tent.

“Dirthara-ma” Nehn said and walked away.

“Ooohhh, was that some elfy curse? I’m really scared now,” Sera called after Nehn.

“Sera, stop,” Cassandra commanded. “You are drunk and being cruel.”

“Whatever. You think it’s batty, too. You just won’t be honest about it,” Sera said as she skulked off to her tent. 

Dorian sat by the fire staring at the ground and struggling for words. He didn’t disagree with Sera entirely, but he figured if writing letters helped Nehn manage her stress then that was her prerogative. People did odder things to deal with grief. Nevarrans built entire cities for the dead and summoned spirits to inhabit their corpses. Compared to that, jotting an occasional note seemed restrained.

Cassandra walked over to Nehn and put a hand on her back. “She is intoxicated and ignorant. Ignore her.”

“She’s not wrong, though. Is she?” Nehn said quietly. “It is weird.”

“We all handle loss differently. It took me many years to come to terms with losing my brother Anthony. If writing to Garel helps you manage, then do it without regret,” Cassandra advised.

“I’m not sure it does help anymore, Cassandra. It used to make me feel less alone, but now ...” Nehn started but didn’t finish her thought.

Cassandra stayed quiet for awhile and then said, “I used to wake up every morning angry that Anthony was dead. That anger fueled me for years. When I took my Vigil, I worked for a year to empty myself of all emotion. It was hard to let go of the rage that had once been my lifeblood, but I did it because I was ready to embrace faith. When you are ready, you will be able to let go, too. In the meantime, be patient with yourself.”

“Cassandra, you still get pretty angry,” Nehn noted.

Cassandra chuckled. “I let go of my anger over Anthony’s death as part of the Vigil. I’ve picked up all new reasons to be angry since then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'll admit that my character's specializations were often chosen by which ingredients I first obtained. Nehn seems to follow the same decision making plan.
> 
> Dirthara-ma = "May you learn." a Dalish curse


	35. Chapter 35

Between the fallout from Sera’s callous criticism of Nehn and Dorian’s emotional meeting with his father, the ride back to Skyhold from Redcliffe was uncomfortably quiet. Cassandra was still angry with Varric for lying to her about Hawke, but she was missing how his stories filled up the conversation gaps left by tense emotions. Nehn was particularly pensive which worried Cassandra. 

Even though she wasn’t one for small talk, Cassandra decided to try to get a conversation started. Anything was better than watching her travel mates get lost in a foggy haze of introspection and angst. “Nehn, do you have any hobbies other than archery?” she asked trying to find a neutral yet enjoyable topic.

“I do, but I’ve been too preoccupied lately,” Nehn said before continuing, “Garel taught me to whittle. I tend to get anxious, so he thought it would be good to have something to keep my hands busy. Maybe I should take it up again... What about you?”

“No, I don’t really have any hobbies,” Cassandra said.

“Liar,” Dorian chided. “You love trashy novels. I couldn’t finish the one you leant me. Reading it I actually felt my intelligence diminish.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise, but Nehn’s face perked up. “The Right Hand of the Divine likes steamy romances?” Nehn started to giggle and then snorted.

“I like literature ... smutty literature,” Cassandra admitted while trying to seem dignified. Inwardly, she was elated to see Nehn laughing and didn’t mind that it was at her expense.

“Are we talking sweet fairy-tale-prince-rescues-the-princess stories or racier tales about man swords and throbbing flesh?” Nehn teased. 

“Definitely the latter only more vulgar,” Dorian answered.

“It isn’t vulgar... it’s descriptive,” Cassandra corrected. 

“So who is your favorite author?” Nehn asked.

Cassandra growled a bit in the back of her throat and then mumbled in a barely audible voice, “Varric.”

“Wait, Varric writes porn?” Nehn said while breaking into a new round of giggles. “What is Varric smut even like? Now Bull I could imagine writing things like that, but Varric?”

“He has a series ‘Swords and Shields.’ The latest one ends in a cliffhanger. Surely Varric is working on a sequel. You could order him to finish it,” Cassandra suggested.

Nehn snorted again which startled her horse who whinnied and bucked twice before settling down.

“Pretend you don’t know this about me,” Cassandra said with a haughty air to her voice.

“Cassandra, let me read them first. I may have a vested interest in seeing them completed after that. Mythal knows I could use a little romance.” Nehn said as she patted her horse reassuringly.

Later that evening, Dorian approached Nehn at camp. “What you said earlier about needing romance ... I thought you and Solas had something going when I saw you asleep in his arms awhile back,” Dorian commented.

“I nodded off. It had been a rough day.”

“You may have been asleep, but he was awake and looking love struck when I went past.”

“I’m pretty sure you misinterpreted that. He’s barely said a word to me since then, and our meetings in the Fade have become purely didactic.”

“I could have sworn...” 

“Dorian, if he’s interested in me other than as a pupil and friend, he has done nothing to show it.”

“Except never taking his eyes off you and glaring whenever anyone else gets the slightest bit flirtatious.”

“I can’t get inside his head, Dorian. He knows how I feel. The next move is his.”

*********************  
Nehn was overjoyed when she came through the gates of Skyhold. Since it was mid-afternoon, she guessed Falon, Sionn, and Sylvia would still be working. Asha, however, would be finished with her instruction for the day, and so Nehn stopped to ask a guard where he thought her youngest would be.

“Asha is probably with Commander Cullen, Inquisitor,” the guard answered. “She’s taken a shine to him. When she finishes her lessons, she finds the Commander and tags along like a puppy until Falon or Sylvia comes to get her around supper time.”

“Elgar’nan! She’s not supposed to bother him.” Nehn protested.

“I don’t think he’s bothered by it. He gave her a clipboard and has her taking notes and running errands for him.”

Nehn sighed, “Thank you,” and walked out into the main courtyard to look for Asha. It wasn’t long before she spotted Cullen’s red mantle on the battlements and caught sight of the top of Asha’s head a few steps behind him. “Fenedhis, that child...”

Catching up to Cullen and Asha, Nehn spoke with her daughter and was updated on how her studies were progressing. Asha happily announced that she’d gotten really good at dispelling and extinguishing flames. “Things barely start to smoke before I put them out now.”

“That’s terrific, Asha. You learned that much more quickly than I did,” Nehn said while cringing inwardly and cursing Solas for teaching her a fire spell in the first place.

“I need to speak with the Commander for a moment. Do you think you could let your brother and sister know I’ve made it back?” Nehn asked. When Asha took off, Nehn turned to Cullen. “Why is she following you around? Where is her babysitter?”

Cullen grabbed the back of his neck and then started detailing what happened. “A few days ago Asha got startled and unintentionally set a small fire. Her nanny hadn’t been around young mages and panicked which only made things worse. Asha remembered that you said to come to me if she was scared which she did. After the nanny resigned, Sylvia, Josephine, and I talked it over, and we worked out a schedule between us to keep Asha occupied outside of her lessons until you made it back to Skyhold.” 

“Cullen, I never meant for you to have to watch her. I just wanted her to know there was someone here she could trust if she felt threatened. I’m so sorry. Mythal’s mercy you’re a general not governess.”

“I didn’t mind. She’s a sweet little girl." _And she reminds me of you._ "Most of the day Asha is with her tutors or taking meals with Josephine. Sylvia gets Asha as soon as she gets off work. It’s just been a few hours a day for the past few days that Asha’s shadowed me.”

“I don’t know what to say ... thank you, Cullen. I’ll find someone more suited to watch her right away. Can I at least buy you a drink later tonight to make amends?”

“Tonight? I uh... well. I guess that would be fine... nice even.”

Nehn smiled brightly. “Later then. And thank you for taking care of my little one.”

***********************  
After supper and a quick bath, Nehn put on her comfortable beige leathers and made her way to Cullen’s office. He was receiving the evening’s briefings when she slipped in quietly. Leaning against the wall, she tried to stay inconspicuous so as not to disrupt the meeting, but Cullen noticed her and dismissed his men.

“Are you free for that drink now, Commander? I was thinking we might be able to get in a game of chess as well if you’re feeling lucky. I did win the last time.”

“I remember. I don’t think you’ll ever let me forget it. The tavern is a little noisy for chess, though.”

“That’s okay. I have a key to the Skyhold cellars, and there’s a little library nearby. If you clear it of spiders, we can play there.”

“So that’s where she gets it from,” Cullen remarked as he followed Nehn to the main keep.

“Who gets what from where?”

“Asha. She’s scared of spiders. In fact, she set that fire when she saw one crawling toward her.”

“We are both terrified by them. Falon is our designated bug killer. Sylvia just makes fun of us and takes them outside. She’s never met an animal that she didn’t like.”

“Falon is doing well with his duties as a runner by the way, and our bowmen are quite impressed with his accuracy,” Cullen said as the passed through Solas study.

“Falon is growing up so fast. I was there when he was born - the first person to hold him in fact. Now he’s nearly as tall as his father. I don’t know whether to be happy or disappointed that he’s enjoying his duties. Some part of me wishes that he would wash out and do something safer. The other part of me is thankful that he’s found something he loves.”

“I’m sure my mother felt the same way when I left for training. It took the Knight Captain visiting our house in person for my parents to agree to let me go in the first place,” Cullen recounted.

Once they’d made it to the wine cellar, Nehn cast mage light to illuminate their options. “Does anything look good to you?” Nehn asked. He stepped closer to Nehn to better see the bottles and brushed against her.

“Oh, sorry... just pick whatever you like. I’m Ferelden. I’ll drink anything,” he said with a smirk.

“Let’s see... West Hill Brandy- Dorian would kill me if we drank that. He loves it. Dragon Piss - That sounds unappetizing to say the least. Aqua Magus- contains lyrium... not the best choice for either of us. Aha! Mackay’s Epic Single Malt The label says this whiskey is older than the Maker and smoother than elven baby-butt. Trust me, that’s smooth. Sound good to you?” Nehn asked while holding up a dusty bottle.

“Baby’s butt whiskey sounds fine,” Cullen joked.

“The library is right over here, but the last time I looked there were giant spiderwebs. I’ll stay right here while you check it out.”

Cullen pretended like he was about to draw his sword when entering the library which made Nehn snort. After a minute of clearing cobwebs, he came out and gave the all clear. Removing a large book that was perched on the table and drawing up two chairs, Cullen sat up the chess board while Nehn poured the whiskey.

“I’ll have to nurse mine,” Nehn said while passing Cullen his glass, “I’m an embarrassment when I’ve drank too much.” 

“It’s hard to think you could ever be an embarrassment,” Cullen said and then looked away.

“Your turn, Commander,” Nehn said as she sat opposite Cullen. Cullen and Nehn played the starting moves of the game in quick succession and then settled into a more contemplative pace during the mid-game.

“How have you been doing?” Nehn asked wanting to know how he was handling his withdrawals.

“Fairly well. The pain is a bit worse now that the weather is colder, but I’m managing. You don’t have to worry that I’ll let the Inquisition be compromised,” he answered sincerely.

“I care about how you’re doing, Cullen. I worry about you - not your ability to lead.”

“You have enough to worry about without adding me to your concerns,” he said self-consciously.

“I’m sorry that Asha caused trouble...”

“That isn’t what I meant. I’m talking about the decisions you have to make. The things you have to see and do. If there’s any way I can help, you’ve only to ask.”

“Honestly, this helps. Just being somewhere quiet and feeling safe. I’ve missed this,” Nehn said while moving her chess piece.

“Me, too,” Cullen responded with a small smile and quick glance at Nehn.

Nehn bit her lip and studied the board. She _had_ missed being with him more than she’d realized until that point, and the kindness he had shown in dealing with Asha had raised her opinion of him even more. She smiled at him briefly and then went back to staring at the board. _If only I could make eye contact with him without feeling like I’m about to faint or throw up._

They finished the remainder of the game in companionable silence interrupted by brief commentary on the game. Cullen won but restrained himself from gloating too much. Nehn had a temper and hated losing almost as much as he did. The bottle of whiskey was practically untouched. “I guess we’re not really drinkers.” Nehn commented as she capped the bottle.

“It doesn’t appear we are,” Cullen chuckled and then put the chess pieces back in their box. As Cullen started to stand, his leg buckled beneath him, and he had to grasp the edge of the table to keep from falling. Nehn was beside him immediately and eased him into the chair.

“Have you been hurting this entire time?” Nehn asked exasperatedly.

“I _always_ hurt, Nehn. It’s just a bit worse today.”

“And you’ve sat in agony for the past two hours with a healer across the table from you. Please let me help.”

“I”m fine really,” Cullen lied.

“No, what you are is stubborn and scared. What happened to you to make you so fearful of magic?”

Cullen was annoyed by her question and the images it brought to mind. He was also embarrassed that she thought he was afraid even though he knew he was. “That is not your concern, Inquisitor,” he said abruptly.

“I see,” Nehn said and her body language betrayed that he had hurt her feelings. “I could get you a healing elixir if you’d like,” she added in a professional tone.

“That won’t be necessary. I simply stood too quickly after sitting too long.”

Nehn studied him and looked unconvinced. “I’ll see you at the council meeting, Commander,” she said and then took her leave.

When she had left the library and shut the door behind her, Cullen pounded his fist on the table. Why did he do that? Why did he let his prejudices affect the way he treated her? Pain seared through his body as he stood, and he had to lean against the bookshelves until his joints loosened. Slowly, he made the agonizing return to his office on the other side of the keep cursing his pride and cowardice in equal measure.


	36. Chapter 36

Varric watched Nehn emerge from the basement of Skyhold looking like a storm cloud. He waffled whether to call out to her and was beat to the chase by Dorian. When Dorian said her name, Nehn turned and looked so exhausted that Varric hoped the Tevinter would just let her go to bed. Dorian, however, didn’t seem to care. He ambled over to Nehn, wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and started conversing animatedly. She gave the Tevinter a look that screamed to-the-Void-with-you, but he ignored it and kept talking. 

_Sparkler is completely missing the warning signs. She’s about to erupt_ Varric thought. To Varric’s surprise, Nehn didn’t lose her temper but stood patiently as Dorian kept blathering. Finally, she stared at Varric with pleading eyes, and he came to her rescue.

“So Sassy, is it too late to interest you in a game of Wicked Grace? You’re welcome to join in, too, Sparkler,” Varric began.

Nehn’s eyes gave him a silent thank you as Dorian considered Varric’s offer before rejecting it. Nehn then readily accepted the invitation and told Dorian that they could speak in the morning. Dorian sauntered off, and Nehn collapsed into the chair beside Varric while lauding him for saving her.

“Usually you enjoy talking with Sparkler. What’s up?” Varric asked.

“He’s angry with Mother Giselle. She’s been propagating rumors about us. I’ll deal with it tomorrow after I find a new nanny for Asha. She scared off her first one when she accidentally conjured fire.”

“I was wondering how she ended up following Curly around this past week.”

“Yeah, that was a bit awkward. Sometimes I envy dwarves. You don’t have nightmares or magic, but you still have emotions. It seems that the gods gave you the best deal,” Nehn commented.

“You’d make a terrible dwarf, Nehn. You’re too scrawny and tall.”

“You’re the only person I know that would call me tall, Varric. I’m short even by elven standards.”

“Short and sassy - the best combination a woman can have,” Varric declared.

“Are you sure I can’t get you to leave Bianca?” Nehn flirted half-teasing, half-serious.

“Hush... she’s very jealous. Don’t let her hear you say things like that,” Varric whispered while patting his crossbow.

“Outclassed by a piece of machinery. I’ve fallen to new lows,” Nehn joked. _Oh well, I tried._

“So what had you in a bad mood earlier? You were plenty pissed before you talked to Dorian.”

“Cullen was acting like a templar.”

“Was he wanting to put a guard on Asha?” Varric quizzed.

“No, nothing like that. He just really doesn’t like magic, and it’s hard not to take it personally.”

“Remind me never to introduce you to Fenris then.”

“It’s a deal. I think I’ll turn in now. Thanks again for pulling me out of that conversation with Dorian. I’d met my drama quota for the day.”

*********************

“Josie, thank you for helping with Asha this past week. Cullen said that you had some recommendations for potential nanny replacements,” Nehn said as she settled into a chair across from Josephine at breakfast.

“I enjoyed having her around. She is a delightful little girl and very well mannered. I do have a list of candidates, though. Meryn is a senior enchanter that worked almost exclusively with young mages in Ostwick’s circle. Lindy is an enthusiastic, young apprentice that would certainly keep Asha entertained. There is one other person I’d encourage you to speak with, but Cullen told me not to mention her.”

“Why did he do that?”

“She is a templar. You probably remember her. Ser Lysette - you saved her life in Haven, and she is eager to repay the debt.”

Nehn wrinkled her nose as if she had smelled something bad. “A templar? I remember Lysette. I’ve even had some nice conversations with her. Still... I’ll tell you what. Set up interviews with all three. I’ll bring Asha, and she can help decide.”

“Certainly. We should also discuss preparations for Sionn and Sylvia’s wedding.”

“Josie, elven weddings are very simple. I pointed out a small grove outside of Skyhold that would be an appropriate venue. I’ve talked to Cullen about making sure that the ceremony is well guarded. Did Sylvia get you a guest list?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t get her to show any interest in the reception. She said to ask you because she wouldn’t be there. Why wouldn’t she go to her own party?”

Nehn paused and tried to think of a tasteful reply. “There is always a celebration after a Dalish wedding. The entire clan feasts, drinks, dances, and sings, but the newly bonded couple never attend. They’re expected to take the opportunity to get to _know_ each other better.”

“Oh my! I hadn’t thought about that,” Josie said while blushing slightly.

“Many Dalish marriages are arranged. The thought is the sooner the relationship is consummated the more successful the partnership will be. Sylvia and Sionn are fortunate to have a love match, but that gives them all the more reason to want to be alone together.”

“Of course!” Josie giggled. “So do you have any preferences about the reception?”

“I’ll probably regret saying this, but go wild Josie. I turn it all over to you.”

Josie’s eyes grew wide with delight. The Ambassador loved to plan parties more than anything. “The wedding is next week, so I have been making a few tentative plans ... just in case. I’ll just see that they are implemented.”

“I’m sure it will be lovely. Thank you, Josie.” Glancing across the main hall, Nehn scowled as she noticed Cullen limping toward the war room. _Managing fine my elven ass._

The war council meeting was long - as they always were when Nehn first returned to Skyhold. After dealing with the more routine Inquisition business, the advisors began to argue what Nehn’s next priority should be. Josephine was intent on preparing Nehn for a ball in Halamshiral that Empress Celene would be hosting later that year. Leliana wanted Nehn to leave for the Western Approach to follow up on Stroud’s lead. Cullen was fixated on hamstringing the Red Templars by disrupting their lyrium supply lines. 

Each presented compelling reasons for choosing their focus, but it was ultimately up to Nehn to decide. Josephine’s suggestion was the easiest to cast aside. Nehn cared little for human politics and even less for Empress Celene who had authorized the killing of hundreds of elves in a Halamshiral alienage as a maneuver in The Game. If it wasn’t part of Corypheus’ plan to destabilize Orlais, Nehn would have been content to allow the planned assassination of Celene to go unstopped. She would let Leliana and Josephine try to unravel who was behind the plot and warn Celene at the ball, but she wasn’t going to spend months preening and studying to impress Orleasian shems.

Nehn was torn between Cullen and Leliana’s advice. The Red Templars had attacked Haven, and she wanted to prevent them from growing stronger. At the same time, Hawke and Stroud had sent an encrypted letter saying Nehn was needed urgently in the Western Approach. Deciding that if the problem with the wardens was bad enough that both Hawke and Stroud were worried, Nehn announced that she would leave for the Western Approach soon after Sionn and Sylvia’s wedding. She then dismissed the meeting. Leliana and Josephine left quickly, but Cullen stayed behind shuffling his papers.

Nehn stared at the war table reviewing her decisions and cursing the headache that was pounding in her temples. Cullen stopped fiddling with his notes and walked closer to Nehn “Inquisitor,” he began. “I want to apologize for being rude last night.”

Nehn knew she should accept his apology. Her personal beliefs practically dictated that she do so, but she was still angry. She gave him a withering look and went back to glaring at the table without speaking. Cullen took a deep breath and put a gloved hand on her arm. “Nehn, I am sorry. I was wrong to be so sharp with you when you were only trying to help.” Between his touch and his words, Nehn couldn’t be angry any longer. 

“Apology accepted. I’m sorry for what I said as well. I take people’s reactions to magic too personally. Magic is just such a part of who I am that I have a hard time separating how people feel about me versus how they feel about it.”

Cullen let go of Nehn’s arm and began to rub the back of his neck. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss away any doubt that she could hold about how he felt about her, but that would be utterly inappropriate and likely unwelcome. He settled on saying, “You’re a good friend to me, Nehn.”

_A friend? Ugh, I’m such an idiot. Best to try to maintain some dignity._ “Thanks, Cullen. I appreciate your friendship, too,” Nehn said before skittering out of the room to mentally tongue lash herself for thinking Cullen might see her as more than just a friend. Cullen stayed in the war room for some time wondering why Nehn had looked upset when she left. He finally decided that he’d never understand women and took off to oversee training activities with his soldiers.

******************  
Asha and Nehn had spent the afternoon speaking with potential nannies. Nehn leaned toward Senior Enchanter Eryn because she was the most experienced. Asha thought she was too old and stuffy.

“I like Lysette. She carries a sword like Commander Cullen. She could keep me safe,” Asha said.

Nehn thought about explaining that templar swords were used both to protect and kill mages but decided she didn’t want to burden her daughter with those concerns. The Inquisition’s templars were different, and after the incident with Ser Evan, Cullen had made sure to ferret out any that held lingering anti-mage sentiments. 

“Asha, why are you worried about being safe? Has something happened here to make you feel threatened?” Nehn asked.

“No, but I’ve seen the people that were hurt in Haven, and I saw what the bandits did to some of our hunters. Can’t I just stay with the Commander? I like him best. He wouldn’t let anybody hurt me. I know it.”

“You’re right he wouldn’t, but he has a very important job, da’len. He can’t look after you and our soldiers. If being with Lysette will make you feel more secure, then I’m fine with hiring her. Just realize some of the other mages may dislike having her around,” Nehn cautioned.

“Why? She’s nice and funny.”

“Templars and mages haven’t always gotten along, Asha. It’s kind of like elves and humans. There’s a lot of history there.”

“But we’re living with the humans now. They aren’t so bad,” Asha said. “You can’t judge a person based on what others that look like them have done.”

Nehn kissed Asha’s forehead. “My sweet girl, may you always see the world with such innocent eyes.”


	37. Chapter 37

Asha whimpered as Nehn combed through her hair. “I told you to braid it before you went to sleep. Now it’s all tangled,” Nehn chastised. “Sit still. I’m almost finished." Asha rolled her eyes and crossed her arms but didn’t move while Nehn got the last of the knots out of her hair. “All done. Now go get dressed,” Nehn said while patting Asha on the behind to get her moving.

As Asha stomped by, Sylvia came into her mother’s room. “Mamae, do I look alright?” she asked. Nehn’s heart caught in her throat seeing Sylvia dressed in her mother Selah’s pale blue wedding robes and wearing a flower crown.

“Mythal’s mercy, you are beautiful, Sylvia. I wish your father was here to see you,” Nehn said while tearing up.

“Mamae, no tears. You promised,” Sylvia reminded.

“No tears,” Nehn said with a shaky voice. After staring at the ceiling and breathing deeply for a moment, she composed herself. “Sylvia, I have something I want to give you,” Nehn said while reaching into her pocket. “It’s the necklace your father gave me when we were first married. It symbolizes the lasting bond between a husband and wife. I wish Sionn and you all the happiness I had with your father,” Nehn said while putting the necklace on Sylvia.

“Mamae, you never take this off. I can’t...” Sylvia protested with her eyes growing watery.

“No tears, da’len. Please, it makes me happy to see it on you. Mythal’enaste,” Nehn said while kissing Sylvia’s cheek. “As soon as Asha gets her dress on, we should go. Are you ready? You know you don’t have to get married - right?”

“Mamae, I want to be with him,” Sylvia said reassuringly.

“Then may Sylaise warm the fires of your hearts and may the Dread Wolf never hear your steps,” Nehn replied while patting Sylvia’s cheek. Asha came in the room wearing a pale yellow robe and holding her own flower crown in her hand while Lysette trailed behind her.

“I tried to get the crown on her head, but it keeps sliding off, Inquisitor,” Lysette said.

“There’s a trick to it, Lysette. You have to braid a few strands of hair through the crown to keep it in place. Come here, Asha. Let me fix it for you quickly. Sionn will be wondering what’s become of his bride if we take much longer.” Nehn affixed the crown effortlessly and examined Asha closely. Wetting her thumb, she rubbed a dirt spot off Asha’s cheek.

“Mamae, that’s so gross,” Asha protested.

“You’ll live,” Nehn said and then ushered her girls out the door. 

Falon was leaning against the wall looking nonplussed. When he saw Sylvia, he grinned. “Looking good, Sis. Sionn might even go through with the wedding.” Sylvia said nothing to her brother but stuck her tongue out at him. 

Nehn shook her head at the exchange. _Some things never change._ “Falon, can’t you refrain from pestering your sister for one day?”

“Sorry, Mamae,” Falon grumbled.

“What about me?” Asha asked while twirling in her dress.

“You always look perfect, little one,” Falon said with a smile while Asha beamed and took her big brother’s hand.

**********************

Josephine stood at the front of a small group of well wishers in the grove of trees where Sylvia and Sionn would be married. She raised her hand to get everyone’s attention and began talking, “The Inquisitor asked me to share some customs related to Dalish weddings. First, the groom will be presented with the bride. They are each given the opportunity to reject the match. If neither does, then a dowry from the bride’s family is given to the groom’s representative.”

Josephine continued almost apologetically, “The Inquisitor tells me that this part of the ceremony occurs because many Dalish marriages are arranged and sometimes occur between complete strangers if someone is brought in from a different clan.” She added happily, “We can safely assume neither will reject today’s pairing.”

Glancing back down at her clipboard and then looking up to speak, Josephine continued, “Next the groom will take his bride’s hand and lead her through the audience. At this time, you are expected to offer blessings or words of wisdom to the couple. It is considered good luck to kiss the bride’s cheek, but you must do so without catching the notice of her intended. The Inquisitor tells me that children often make a game out of trying to kiss the bride with several distracting the groom while one sneaks around to steal a kiss.”

“After the blessings, the couple goes before the Keeper and the bride circles the groom seven times while a wedding song is sung. Then vows and rings are exchanged. Once the bride and groom have exchanged rings, they are considered bonded. It is the duty of the audience to clap and make as much noise as possible as the couple rushes away. You must also shake these bundles of crushed herbs to fill the air with their scent. Your noise is to cover their footsteps from the Dread Wolf’s ears and the herbs are to mask their scent from his nose, so Sionn and Sylvia may lead a long and happy life together without his interference.”

Solas who had been listening politely to Josephine’s explanation shifted uncomfortably at her last words and briefly rolled his eyes up to the sky with annoyance before regaining his stoic countenance. Bull noticed Solas’ reaction but chalked it up to his not believing in the elven gods. 

“And now it seems like we are ready to begin,” Josephine said brightly as she waved to Nehn. “Master Harritt, as a respected elder, will lead Sionn forward and then Falon, the bride’s closest male relative, will bring her. Both will ask if the couple agrees to the match, and then a token dowry will be exchanged.”

Harritt, who looked nearly unrecognizable with his face soot free and hair combed, walked uncomfortably in the Dalish robes he’d been given for the ceremony. Keeping a hand on Sionn’s back, he led the groom to the front of the assembly. Falon strutted in with Sylvia on his arm. Sylvia, for her part, looked radiant and relaxed. When her eyes met Sionn’s, they both broke into wide, lovestruck smiles.

Falon spoke first looking at Sionn. “I offer my sister, Sylvia Anaria Lavellan, as a potential bondmate. Will you consent to the pairing?”

“Gladly,” Sionn said with a wink to Sylvia.

Harritt bit his lip trying to remember what he was to say. “Bollocks, I’ve forgotten your full name,” he admitted to Sionn which elicited a laugh from the audience. Sionn leaned over and whispered in Harritt’s ear. Harritt cleared his throat and said to Sylvia, “I offer my friend and coworker, Sionn Cyrion Adahl, as a potential bondmate. Will you consent to the pairing?”

Sylvia playfully cocked her head as if she were considering saying no, and then answered, “Wholeheartedly” with a giggle.

Falon then gave his sister’s hand to Sionn. Pulling a bag of coins out of his robes, he made a show of presenting them to Harritt and said, “As a token of gratitude for taking her off our hands.” which earned him a glare from Sylvia and a chuckle from Sionn. Harritt and Falon then left to join the audience, while Sionn guided Sylvia to Nehn to receive their first blessing.

Nehn put her hands on each of their shoulders and said, “Emotions wax and wane but love endures. Be good to each other.” Without even trying to distract Sionn, Nehn leaned over and kissed Sylvia. Then looking directly at Sionn she added, “I’m entrusting you with a precious treasure. Guard her well.” 

“I will,” he promised while hugging Nehn who was fighting tears. 

Asha was next to offer her advice, “She likes strawberries and steals the covers. I hope Mythal and Sylaise bless you with many children. I want to be an auntie.”

Falon considered his words before speaking, “May the Creators bless you both, and Sionn, take good care of my sister, she means the world to me.”

Sylvia hugged her brother tightly and then said, “You’re still halla poop.”

“And you’re a fart head,” he answered back. Nehn cursed under her breath and then reminded them that they were at a sacred ceremony.

Sionn and Sylvia made their way through the crowd taking blessings and words of wisdom from everyone there. Sera, Leliana Varric, and Bull colluded to distract Sionn, so each could give the bride a good luck kiss. Solas offered a blessing in elven that the couple would endure trials with grace and wisdom. Cassandra wished them passion and happiness. Josephine advised them to think before speaking while Cullen encouraged them to look out for each other’s best interest. Cole said cryptically, “Two hearts once empty and longing now whole and full. Remember this feeling.” 

When all the other guests had given their blessings, Sionn and Sylvia returned to where Nehn was standing between two aspens. Nehn nodded to Asha, and they began to sing an elven wedding song while Sylvia circled Sionn always keeping one hand on his body. The song was bittersweet and had a haunting harmony made more memorable by Asha’s pure, high voice and Nehn’s throaty alto combining together seamlessly. After Sylvia circled Sionn seven times, she stood beside him, holding his hand and resting her head on his shoulder while Nehn and Asha finished the song.

Nehn then recited the wedding vows that she had said to Garel years before to both Sionn and Sylvia who repeated them in unison. 

May Elgar’nan, the all-father, create a strong bond between us.  
May Mythal, the all-mother, protect our union.  
May Sylaise, the hearthkeeper, warm the fires of our home and hearts.  
May Falon’Din, friend of the dead, one day help us find each other in the Beyond.

Nehn happily declared Sylvia and Sionn bonded as soon as they slipped a ring on the left index finger of each other’s hand. With Josephine’s encouragement, everyone made a racket and shook pomades filled with pungent herbs while Sylvia and Sionn slipped away. Nehn joyfully shouted after them, “May the Dread Wolf never hear you or catch your scent.”

********************  
While Sylvia and Sionn’s bonding ceremony had been a small, intimate affair, the reception Josephine planned afterwards was not. The whole of Skyhold was invited to feast, drink, and dance to the couple’s happiness. After gorging herself on petit fours, Nehn ambled through the crowd, chatting and celebrating until she happened upon Cullen who was watching the party from a distance.

“How are you doing, Commander?” Nehn asked.

“Honestly, I’m still in shock that you chose Ser Lysette to take care of Asha,” Cullen said. “I thought your feelings about templars were pretty clear.”

“My feelings about templars in general are different than those I hold for the Inquisition’s templars, Cullen. Our people are trustworthy. I just followed Asha’s wishes about who she wanted to watch her. Although, you should know that you were her first choice by a long shot. You made quite the impression on her.”

“Really? I’ll admit that I miss having her around. She was an enjoyable distraction. Maybe I can have Lysette bring her by my office from time to time.”

“She’d love that although I must warn you about something. She’s made up her mind to become a templar when she gets older. I don’t have the heart to tell her that’s not possible. Maybe she’ll be satisfied with becoming a Knight Enchanter.”

“A young mage wanting to be a templar? I thought I’d heard of everything,” Cullen chuckled.

“Did you enjoy the wedding?”

“I did. The ceremony is so much shorter than those in the Chantry, and the song Asha and you sang was beautiful even if I didn’t understand a word of it.”

“The song is very old - some sources trace it to the time of Elvehnan even. The lyrics describe choosing to love another person, standing with them through life’s trials, and pledging yourself to be their comforter and protector until death. If you consider that ancient elves were immortal, the promise of a bond made until death is even more significant.”

“I would think having someone to share a long life would be more of a joy than a burden. If both people were committed to the idea, that is,” Cullen commented.

“Definitely. I felt that way about Garel - not at first but eventually.”

“Not at first?” Cullen asked.

“Our marriage was arranged. It took time for me to grow to love him, but once I did I understood the song’s meaning,” Nehn said while getting a little teary.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean...” Cullen began.

“No, it’s fine. It’s an emotional day. I promised Sylvia I wouldn’t cry, and I won’t. I am truly overjoyed for her. Sionn is such a hard-working, considerate, and kind-hearted man. They’ll be happy together I’m sure.”

Cullen and Nehn stood in silence for a few moments before Nehn asked, “This is a nosy question, and you have every right to tell me to mind my own business...”

Cullen said, “You’re making me a little concerned, but ask away.”

“Why haven’t you married? Templars can marry - right?”

Cullen cleared his throat and looked uneasy before answering. “I really need to run the other direction the next time you hint you may ask something embarrassing. But yes, templars can marry with a special dispensation from the Order. It is a common misconception that they can’t, however.”

“But you haven’t. You were in Kirkwall ten years. Didn’t anyone there catch your eye?”

“No one in Kirkwall caught my eye,” Cullen answered looking at Nehn cagily.

Nehn sighed. “What about that girl you liked back in Haven? Did you ever ask her out?”

Cullen grabbed the back of his neck and looked like he might be trying to pass a kidney stone. “I haven’t. I’m busy leading an army and fighting lyrium withdrawals. A relationship between us wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Why? Is she one of our soldiers?” 

“No, I would never abuse my authority like that,” Cullen said firmly and then begged, “Can we.. could we please talk about something else?” 

“Sorry, the wedding just has me in the mood to play matchmaker, and you _are_ Skyhold’s most eligible bachelor. It’d be quite the coup to successfully set you up. If you ever decide to pursue her, I’d still put in a good word for you. Besides she might feel the same way about you.”

“I’m fairly certain that she has no clue about how I feel,” Cullen said while glancing at Nehn from the side of his eye. 

“It’s her loss,” Nehn said while patting Cullen’s arm and then excusing herself to check on Asha.


	38. Chapter 38

Sionn and Sylvia’s wedding reception in the main courtyard was unlike anything Nehn had ever seen. Nearly all of Skyhold was singing, dancing, drinking, or some combination thereof. Eventually the noise and revelry grew too much for Nehn and she retreated into the great hall for some quiet. She noticed that Solas was alone in his study and went to speak with him.

“Not one for parties?” Nehn asked as she approached Solas.

“I felt ... out of place. The racket left me unsettled, and I think I might be allergic to whatever herb was used in the ceremony.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know it would bother you. I’m sensitive to nearly all flowers and herbs, but I dosed myself with a potion before the wedding. I could get you something to help with the symptoms,” Nehn offered.

“That’s not necessary, but thank you.”

“Did you at least enjoy the ceremony until then?” Nehn asked.

“I’ve never attended a Dalish wedding. It was ... unique.”

“Which is a polite way of saying we got it all wrong,” Nehn said while tilting her head to make better eye contact with Solas who was acting preoccupied with one of his books.

“Not everything. The song Asha and you sang for instance was quite close to its original iteration. The harmony you added to it was an improvement,” Solas said with a nod.

“But the rest?” Nehn pressed.

“Outside of having a gathering of family and friends to celebrate a pairing, the Dalish ceremony shares little in common with those that would have been held in the time of Elvehnan. Marriage ceremonies would take years not minutes, for instance. Although that might represent a welcome alteration as well...” Solas jested.

“Maybe you can show me the memory of a wedding... or at least part of one sometime,” Nehn encouraged.

“Perhaps... although the few I’ve seen were dull, overly elaborate affairs focused more on cementing political alliances than celebrating love. Sylvia and Sionn’s wedding was preferable in that regard. They obviously care deeply for one another.”

“I would have never thought of you as a romantic, Solas,” Nehn teased.

“Truly? Then I should work harder to disabuse you of that notion,” Solas said while staring at Nehn intently.

Nehn felt her chest tighten. She never knew when Solas was being serious or playing with her. He would make advances toward her and then retreat from them just as quickly. It was maddening.

“As an example, I should have told you earlier that you look particularly beautiful today. My eyes should have been on the bride, but I struggled to keep them off you. You are an exquisitely distracting woman, Inquisitor.”

At first, Nehn was flattered, but then she felt angry. Solas had been indifferent and cool since their kiss which had made her feel unsure and awkward around him. Now he was complimenting her and acting flirtatious. She’d had her fill of Solas’ waxing and waning interest. Instead of thanking him, she spat out, “You’ve barely spoken to me these past few weeks. Now you tell me I’m beautiful.”

“Well, you are beautiful. Am I not allowed to acknowledge that?” Solas questioned with feigned innocence.

“I don’t know. By itself, it’s just a compliment. Taken in the context of our relationship, “ Nehn growled a little in frustration before continuing, “I’m always having to guess what the actual intent is behind your words. Do you have any idea how aggravating that is?” Nehn exclaimed while throwing her hands up.

“I do. I struggle to understand you. I would have never predicted this outburst over a simple compliment for instance” Solas said with a smirk.

“Nothing with you is ever simple. You enjoy playing mind games,” Nehn accused while pointing a finger at Solas’ chest.

“I never said that I didn’t,” Solas replied calmly.

“See - a normal person would argue that they weren’t being manipulative.”

“I’m not a _normal_ person, da’len. I thought you understood that by now.”

“Can’t you just pretend to be normal for a minute?” 

“What purpose would pretending to be normal serve?” he asked.

“A normal person would be able to tell me what he wants,” Nehn hissed while crossing her arms defensively.

“I know what I want,” Solas said as he drew closer to Nehn his eyes betraying feral desire. “I’m fairly certain it would be a bad idea, though,” he added regaining his typical regal air while stopping just short of touching Nehn.

Nehn felt a rush of emotions. She hated games. She hated being toyed with, and she was fairly certain a good portion of her hated Solas in that moment. With every one of his hesitations, she wanted him more if only to prove him wrong. As much as she would be loathe to admit it, some part of her relished the sweet agony he was causing her. If she could get him past his reservations, they could be phenomenal together as lovers.

Biting her lip before she spoke, Nehn drew herself up to her full height and angled her chin so she could look at Solas in the eyes. “And what if I didn’t care?”

Solas didn’t respond but instead traced the outline of her jaw with his thumb before gliding his knuckles down her neck and chest stopping just short of her breasts. Nehn closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. He took his hand away and bent over to speak in her ear letting his lips ghost against her skin. “It would undoubtedly be enjoyable,” he whispered before kissing her neck. “Although it would most certainly be unwise,” he added while running his hands down her back to her waist before pulling her to him tightly.

Nehn laid her head against his chest and listened to his heart beat as he rested his head on top of her own. She looked up and his mouth caught hers in a hungry kiss as he moved his hands lower to grab her rear. Her arms wrapped around his neck as the kiss deepened and they pressed against each other harder. Solas broke away first, “We need to stop. This location is hardly private, and today has been an emotional day for you seeing your daughter married. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

_By the Dread Wolf, take advantage of me, please,_ Nehn thought. “I really don’t mind, Solas...” she said as she glanced her lips along his neck.

Stepping backwards, he replied earnestly, “But I do, da’len. You are ... important to me.” Offering his arm to her, he said, “Come, let’s see how the festivities are progressing. If we’re fortunate, they may have some of those tiny cakes you love left.”

“Solas, I ...,” Nehn stopped herself from saying something needy. Taking a deep breath, she instead said, “I claim any of the chocolate ones with raspberry filling.”

“Whatever you want, da’len.” he said and then bowed to kiss her hand.

_Mythal’enaste! He’ll be the death of me._ Nehn thought as his eyes locked wantonly on her own, and his lips brushed her knuckles. With a smug grin, he stood and offered her his arm. 

Nehn decided to take back some control. “I’m not going on your arm like some shemlen princess being escorted to a ball. If you won’t hold my hand or put your hand at my waist, then I’ll walk alone.”

Solas examined her carefully and then took her hand in his own. “As you wish, da’len,” he said. “But are you sure you want the whole of Skyhold speaking about us?”

“What I want is for _you_ to publicly acknowledge there is something between us.”

“And why is that important to you, da’len?”

“Because I value honesty. I don’t want to hide how I feel for someone - for you. If you aren’t willing to do the same...”

“So you feel something for me?” he asked cockily.

“Most of the time it’s sheer annoyance, but sometimes there’s something more that I wouldn’t mind exploring,” Nehn said while suggestively trailing her hand down his chest. Solas caught her hand before it traveled too low and then pressed a kiss into her palm.

“Very well, but we should go to the reception. You’re proving more difficult to resist that I would like to admit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're veering a bit off canon now. The story would be too predictable if I stuck to canon entirely or had Nehn make completely wise choices all the time. We're early in the story, so expect some twists and turns romance wise from here on out. 
> 
> Theme song for this chapter: Erasure's "I Love to Hate You"


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cautiously bumping the rating to M for this chapter.

Bull squinted as he saw Nehn and Solas walking hand in hand down the stairwell from the great hall to the courtyard. Elbowing Krem in the ribs, he pointed at the pair and asked, “What do you make of that?”

Krem watched the Inquisitor and Solas for a moment, took a drink from his bottle of beer, and shrugged. “Don’t know, Chief. The Inquisitor is a touchy-feely sort. She hugs me every time she comes into the tavern. Probably isn’t anything.”

“Yeah, I’d discount it entirely if she was with anyone but him. He’s not exactly warm. I’m going to see if Dorian knows anything. Oh, and Krem, save some beer for me. I don’t want to drink that Orleasian piss Josephine has on tap.”

“Get back here fast enough, and it won’t be a concern, Chief,” Krem said while uncapping a new bottle.

Bull scanned the crowd and spotted Dorian and Sera reclining on some hay bales and sharing a bottle of champagne. He then looked for Solas and Nehn and saw that Solas had stopped holding her hand and instead was guiding her through the crowd with his hand more on her rear than the small of her back. _Fuck, not my imagination then._

Bull made his way to where Dorian laid watching the crowd and making condescending remarks about the partygoers to Sera. “Hey, Vint, what’s your take on that situation?” Bull asked while gesticulating at Nehn and Solas who were at the dessert table. As Bull spoke, Nehn was looking coyly at Solas over her shoulder after she caught him staring at her rear.

Dorian didn’t look where Bull motioned at first. Instead he corrected Bull, “My name is Dorian - not Vint, and I doubt that you and I would share any concerns about anything.”

“Yeah, whatever Vint, just take a look over there and tell me you don’t have an opinion on it,” Bull growled.

Dorian languidly followed where Bull was pointing with his eyes and then sat up quickly. “Vishante kaffas, I thought she’d gotten past that hang up. I tell you I can’t leave her alone for a minute. She’s like a puppy that’s not housebroken in a room filled with antique rugs.”

Sera followed Dorian’s gaze and then wrinkled her nose. “Ew -are they together now?” 

“Wait, Dorian, you said you thought she’d gotten past that? So this isn’t new?” Bull asked.

“Not entirely. They kissed, and then he backed off asking for more time to think. Something about it being a bad idea for them to be together which I told her was a giant red flag, but that probably only made her more interested. She doesn’t like being told no,” Dorian recounted.

“Maybe it will be fine,” Dorian continued trying to convince himself as much as the others. “She assures me he’s less of an ass when they are in the Fade together. Then there’s the business with her clan taking a sour view of non-elven relationships. If she hopes to mend relations with them some day, dating an elf seems like a good choice.” 

“There are plenty of elves in Skyhold, Dorian. She doesn’t have to be with him to date within her race. There’s a whole hinky undercurrent to their relationship. Huge power imbalance - and not in her favor,” Bull noted.

“Not worried about that. Inky can handle herself,” Sera countered. “It’s just so ... elfy, though. She’s an idiot for a set of pointed ears and stories about the good old days, and he’s got a thing for her glowy hand and authority over humans. Relationship won’t work for shite, but the sex will be hot.”

Dorian groaned at the thought of Nehn and Solas having sex. “I blame Cullen for this development.”

“How is this Cullen’s fault? All of Skyhold can tell he has a thing for Nehn.” Bull started.

“Ah - not all of Skyhold, Bull. Our lovely Inquisitor doesn’t know it and wouldn’t believe me when I tried to tell her differently. They had an argument recently. When Cullen apologized, he made a point to emphasize what a great _friend_ she was to him,” Dorian said with disgust.

“No way. Cullen is a smart guy. He wouldn’t friendzone her,” Bull argued.

“Cullen has a brilliant military mind. He is, however, completely baffled by women - particularly ones to whom he is attracted. When I asked about it, he proudly confirmed how he had sorted things between them,” Dorian said while flourishing the champagne bottle.

Varric ambled over to the others and questioned, “What’s got you gossiping like a bunch of hens?”

“That,” Bull answered and nodded his head toward Nehn and Solas, who were sitting too closely together to be just friends.

Varric’s face fell slightly as he saw Nehn and Solas. “That’s a plot twist I didn’t see coming. Although I’ve been through this whole love/hate thing with Hawke and Fenris. Things get messy fast when broody elves are involved.”

“From your book, I thought Hawke was with Merrill,” Dorian said.

“Oh, Hawke ended up with Merrill, but he started off with Fenris. I just left that out of the book because Fenris is a private person, and I like having my heart inside my chest,” Varric explained wryly. “So what do you think the over/under is for this relationship? I give it three months max.”

“You aren’t suggesting we place bets on our friends’ romance - are you?” Dorian questioned with disdain.

“Sure I am. It’ll make the inevitable disaster easier to watch if I’ve got some coin riding on it. There’s no way this ends well,” Varric threw back.

“It _could_ end well. It won’t, but it _could_ ,” Bull stated. “That said I give it a year. The Boss doesn’t take relationships lightly, and he’s probably never had anyone that hot remotely interested in him.”

“They’ll be broken up before we make it back from the Western Approach,” Sera said definitively. “And she’ll dump him.”

“Come on Dorian, you’ve got to have an opinion. Share it for bragging rights if you don’t want to lay coin on it,” Varric pressed.

Dorian smoothed his mustache and said, “I just want her to be happy - preferably the happily-ever-after type of happy.” 

“You’re as big of a romantic as Cassandra, you soft-hearted ol’ fop,” Bull teased while ruffling Dorian’s hair. 

“Don’t touch the hair,” Dorian snarled while combing it back into place with his fingers. 

“Speaking of hair... how do you think Curly is going to take this?” Varric asked.

“Let’s not overreact. Nehn and Solas are just sitting together and flirting. I don’t see him proposing,” Dorian said. “Besides Cullen went to his office ages ago. This whole thing could have blown over before he even catches wind of it.”

“Says the guy betting on happily ever after,” Bull retorted. 

“I want _her_ to have happily ever after. I don’t particularly care with whom,” Dorian snipped.

Nehn noticed her friends were standing together and staring at her, so she waved. Solas merely glared at them.

“Shit, they saw us,” Bull said.

“Well, we have been gaping at them,” Dorian pointed out. “I, for one, am going to speak with our lovely Inquisitor.” Dorian stood and brushed hay off himself before tottering toward Nehn on the opposite side of the courtyard. Sera, Bull, and Varric exchanged looks between themselves but opted to stay put and watch Dorian who was more pickled than usual talk to Nehn.

Cassandra briefly stopped by to ask Bull what was going on and chided her comrades for being gossips. “What they do on their own time is their business,” she stated firmly before stalking away.

“She says that now, but she’ll be watching them closer than anyone,” Varric predicted. “Her entire life’s purpose is to mess with other people’s business.”

Dorian plopped down beside Nehn - narrowly missing Solas’ lap and wedging himself between them. Nehn giggled and Solas rolled his eyes at Dorian’s inebriated interloping. Putting one arm around each of them, he pointed toward Bull and the others and asked, “We’re trying to figure out what’s going on with you. Care to elaborate.”

“No,” Solas said firmly.

“I knew you wouldn’t. I was asking Nehn,” Dorian sassed.

“We’re enjoying my daughter’s wedding reception. What did it look like we were doing, Dorian?” Nehn said while winking at Solas.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Dorian said as he struggled to stand. 

“And you are completely soused. Let’s get you to bed with a bucket beside you,” Nehn said as she put her arm around Dorian’s waist. Dorian stumbled forward nearly knocking Nehn down, and Solas grudgingly righted him.

“I’ve got him. Don’t hurt yourself. He’s much too large for you to handle,” Solas said as he slung one of Dorian’s arms over his shoulder. “I’ll see him to his quarters and give him something to counter the alcohol he’s ingested.”

“You’re not nearly as much of an asshole as everyone thinks, Solas,” Dorian commented.

“How comforting,” Solas replied sarcastically as he guided Dorian toward the annex that held their rooms. Nehn followed behind them briefly and then gestured for Bull and Varric to help.

“Looks like we’re being put on drunk patrol,” Varric complained.

“Serves us right for letting the Vint interrupt them,” Bull replied.

“Hey, need help with Dorian?” Bull offered.

Solas said nothing, but Nehn asked Bull if he could help Dorian to his chambers. Bull put Dorian’s other arm around him and grunted at Solas that they could get moving.

“Varric, if you could go by the apothecary and get an emetic. I’m not sure that we won’t have to force him to throw up some,” Nehn said which caused Dorian to vomit as if on cue.

“Never mind then,” Nehn said to Varric while patting Dorian on the back.

“Vint, you threw up on my boots,” Iron Bull griped.

“At least you’re wearing shoes,” Solas said with revulsion.

“Varric, maybe grab a bucket from the stables instead,” Nehn recommended.

“You got it, Sassy. Sparkler, hold off on spewing again until we’ve got something to catch it in,” Varric said as he rushed off toward the barn.

Solas looked at Dorian and said, “Charming,” before navigating Dorian around his stomach contents and further down the hall.

When they reached Dorian’s room, Nehn laid a towel over his bed and then efficiently stripped him to his smalls.

“Whoa, Boss, you know how to get the clothes off a man faster than a hooker,” Bull said in awe.

“I’m a healer by trade, Bull. I had to learn how to get people undressed quickly,” she explained and then encouraged Dorian to vomit again if possible. He gladly obliged as Nehn held the bucket.

“Wet cloth, please,” she called out. Solas obliged looking completely peeved at Dorian.

Nehn wiped off Dorian’s face and encouraged him to take a sip of water. “I can’t leave you alone tonight. You need to stay awake for awhile if you can.”

“Boss, you don’t have to stay up with him. Solas, Varric, and I can do that. You’ve already had a busy enough day with the wedding. Go on and take care of Falon and Asha. We’ve got this.” 

Solas and Varric glared at Bull for being volunteered to care for Dorian but didn’t argue.

Nehn looked apologetically at the three men - especially Solas, but then said, “Thanks, Bull. I am pretty worn out. I’ll stop by in the morning to see how things went. Do you want me to get you some extra pillows or chairs?”

“We can take what we need from my room, Inquisitor,” Solas answered. “Rest well.”

Nehn walked toward the door, hesitated, and then kissed Solas on the cheek before nodding to the others and leaving.

Solas said nothing and started toward his room to get some extra chairs when Bull stood in front of him. “You aren’t going to say something about that?”

“No, it’s not your concern. Now stop acting like a brute, and let me get some chairs for us. I have a feeling this will be a long night,” Solas said as he sidestepped Bull and continued on his way. He returned a short time later with two chairs and a deck of cards. 

Seeing the cards, Varric complimented Solas on thinking ahead and started to shuffle the deck as Dorian moaned that he just wanted to sleep.

“Can’t let you do that right now, Vint. The Boss is afraid you’ll throw up and choke. You get to play cards with us instead.”

“This is a rare occurrence. I’ve never been able to convince Solas to join a game before,” Varric said as he dealt the cards.

“I rarely gamble any more,” Solas said flatly.

***************  


Nehn got Asha to bed and encouraged Falon to get some rest before going to her own room to bathe and sleep. She woke up with a slight stomach ache from eating too many petit fours and promised herself that she’d work extra hard during her training session with Commander Helaine to make up for all she’d eaten. She opted to put on a simple robe imbued with numerous protective enchantments.

Having worn her hair in a complicated up do the previous day, Nehn chose to let her hair hang loosely down her back reasoning she could tie it back later when she met with Helaine. For now, it felt good to let her scalp rest. Popping her head in Asha and Falon’s rooms, she encouraged them to get moving. She opted to leave Sylvia and Sionn undisturbed. 

Stopping by the kitchens, she grabbed a large tray of food and then headed toward Dorian’s room. No one answered when she knocked on the door, so she had to set the tray down on a nearby table to open it. Dorian was curled into a fetal position on his bed, snoring lightly. Varric, Bull, and Solas were all sleeping uncomfortably in their chairs. Propping the door open, Nehn retrieved the tray and made her way into the room before clearing her throat loudly. Everyone but Dorian jumped to their feet as she apologized for startling them.

“I brought breakfast,” Nehn offered while setting the tray on Dorian’s dresser. 

“You should wear your hair like that more often. It looks much redder when its down,” Bull said.

“It’s the lighting not how I’m wearing it, Bull.”

“Still looks good, Boss.”

Nehn shrugged and turned to Solas. “How did Dorian do last night?”

“He complained a great deal, but he’ll be fine once the hangover wears off,” Solas declared.

“Thank you all for watching him. I didn’t realize how tired I was until I nearly fell asleep in the bathtub. How did you manage to stay awake?”

“Solas spent the night wiping the floor with us in Wicked Grace,” Varric answered with annoyance. “I thought you said you weren’t a gambler, Solas.”

“I said that I didn’t gamble often, not that I’m not proficient at it,” Solas replied with a sly smile.

“Proficient is an understatement,” Bull growled. 

“Never underestimate his ability to play games. He’s something of a savant,” Nehn said while gazing pointedly at Solas who merely raised an eyebrow in response.

Varric grabbed some rolls from the tray Nehn brought and excused himself saying that he wanted to rest in his own bed for awhile. Bull asked Nehn if she thought it would be safe to leave Dorian. “He’s past the danger of choking now. I doubt there’s much of anything left in his stomach from the looks of that bucket. I think you can take off, Bull. Thanks again.” Bull loaded up on breakfast foods and then went through the doorway one horn at a time.

Nehn and Solas were left with Dorian who was snoring loudly and occasionally muttering in his sleep. “Do you want anything to eat?” Nehn asked.

“I’m afraid that I don’t have much of an appetite at present,” Solas answered.

“I’m sorry that you ended up watching Dorian. That wasn’t quite the way I hoped our evening would go,” Nehn offered tentatively.

“Nor I. I think we can leave him as well,” Solas remarked as he picked up the chairs he’d brought. Nehn took one from him and followed Solas to his room next door. She slid the chair underneath a desk and then ran her hand over the collection of papers, drawings, and books that covered it. Solas closed the door quietly and sat his own chair down. He walked over to Nehn, put his arms around her waist from behind, and kissed her neck. “This is how I would have preferred our night to end.”

Nehn closed her eyes and leaned back against Solas. “Me, too,” she whispered as he pulled her closer to him with one hand while cupping her breast with the other. Nehn’s breath hitched when he took hold of her breast, but she didn’t protest. His hands and lips felt wonderful on her body, and she could feel a slight tingle as his magic entwined with her own.

She turned around and began to kiss him, their tongues fighting for dominance, as he grabbed her ass and slid a leg between hers. In return, she arched her back and rubbed her hands against his chest while humming her contentment. They continued kissing as he greedily palmed her breast and moved his leg to create delicious pressure between her own.

Nehn’s climax came on her unexpectedly as she shuddered against Solas who chuckled and nipped at her ear lobe as he praised her responsiveness. “Beautiful, da’len. So eager, ” he said while she came undone. Nehn was practically blinded by lust and started to tug at Solas’ tunic when the bell chimed the eighth hour. “Fuck,” she said while pulling away from him. “War council,” she explained between panting breaths. 

Solas examined her with a self-satisfied and bemused grin. “I won’t keep you from your duties. We can continue this later.” Nehn nodded weakly and left to go to the council meeting working to regain her composure as she walked toward the main keep. Crossing the great hall, she avoided looking at Varric certain that he would immediately intuit what had transpired and tease her mercilessly for it. After wrapping her hair into a neat bun and sending a calming aura over herself, Nehn leaned her head against the monk’s door that led into the council chambers and smiled letting out a satisfied peep.

“You’re having a good morning,” Cullen’s voice echoed behind her.

Nehn stood straight at his voice and said nonchalantly, “It seems that I am. How about you, Commander?”

“Better now,” Cullen answered with a warm smile as he reached forward and opened the door for Nehn. She briefly considered whether he was referring to seeing her but cast the thought aside. He’d been pretty clear that they were just friends. In any event, Solas was proving to be every bit as adept as she imagined he would be.

Leliana and Josephine were already in the council chambers, so Nehn started the meeting right away. “Inquisitor, there is a matter of some urgency. A group of injured Inquisition veterans has become pinned down by Avaar in the Frostbacks. We received a raven this morning asking for aid,” Cullen began.

“Send troops from Skyhold to help them,” Nehn answered.

“Their situation appears desperate, Inquisitor. I don’t believe troops sent from here would reach them in time. We do have men in the area. They are tracking Red Templars who have taken civilian captives. We could send them to assist, but they would likely lose the Red Templars,” Cullen explained.

Nehn rubbed her temples feeling her good mood slip away. There would be no good outcome for this scenario. “What are your recommendations?”

Josephine replied passionately, “These soldiers are still our allies. We can’t abandon them.”

Nehn glanced at Leliana who offered no opinion then turned to Cullen. “And what is your opinion, Commander?”

“No one wants to make this call, but if the Red Templars escape more lives will be lost. I believe our soldiers would understand,” Cullen said solemnly.

Nehn pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes for a few moments then she dropped her hand and commanded, “Send some troops from Skyhold on our fastest mounts to the injured soldiers. Do not divert the troops from following the Red Templars. May Andruil give all of them success in their hunt.”

Josephine looked disappointed but didn’t argue, and Cullen nodded his assent before exiting the room briefly to relay orders to his captains. As soon as Cullen left the room, Leliana began to pry, “The wedding was lovely, Inquisitor. And you seemed to be enjoying yourself at the reception.”

Nehn looked up from the stack of papers before her and said, “I know I thanked you yesterday, Josie. But the reception was amazing. Everyone had a fantastic time. Thank you again.”

Leliana was undeterred. “The reception was extraordinary, but I was referring to the time you were spending with Solas. Am I correct to assume that you have become close?” Josephine’s eyes widened at Leliana’s question. She had been so consumed with making sure the party was running smoothly that she had missed Nehn and Solas acting like a couple.

Nehn looked across the table warily at Leliana. The spymaster rarely asked a question to which she didn’t already know the answer. “Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity primarily. Although it is important for me to know when key members of the Inquisition take lovers, in case they need to be vetted,” Leliana responded.

“We’re hardly lovers, Leliana.”

“Really? That small love bite on your neck would say otherwise,” Leliana said while pointing to a spot just below Nehn’s right ear.

“Fenedhis!” Nehn cursed and then let her hair down while Leliana giggled.

“Good for you, Inquisitor. A girl needs to have some fun,” Leliana teased while Nehn turned red.

Cullen reentered the council chambers and commented to Nehn, “You changed your hair. It looks nice,” which caused Josephine and Leliana to cackle while Nehn buried her face in her hands. Cullen looked confused and then shook his head. He’d never get used to women.


	40. Chapter 40

The war council stretched on for six hours as Nehn and her advisors laid out scenarios for her trip to the Western Approach. Nehn’s head felt full to bursting with information when she finally rested a hand on the table and said, “Enough. I’ve heard enough. Warden Stroud suspects that the warden mages may be turning to blood magic. I’ll travel west with my team and a contingent of templars if you can spare them, Cullen. The trip is too long for me to make a round trip to report in after meeting Stroud and Hawke. We’ll have to rely on ravens and scouts set to relay messages. I assume that you can have an efficient communications network established by the time I reach the Western Approach, Leliana.”

“If Stroud is correct, then you can expect that we’ll have to mobilize a force large and well-trained enough to battle wardens. Commander, I’d suggest you begin readying your people now - perhaps even begin moving small contingents through the Dales. We can’t risk a diplomatic incident with Orlais by marching a single large army through their country. Josephine perhaps you can work to smooth any feathers that are ruffled as our people move west.”

“There hasn’t been any news from the Exalted Plains in some time, and our path will take us through the region. I will try to address any rifts in the area, but I want to avoid getting bogged down like I was in the Hinterlands. Whatever problems I discover there, I will try to manage quickly. If they can’t be handled expediently, I will send word to Skyhold and will trust the council’s judgement on how to proceed. Any questions?” Nehn asked after summarizing six hours worth of debates and information into a succinct action plan.

“I will have Knight-Captain Rylen and some of his men accompany you, Inquisitor,” Cullen stated.

“He’s your second-in-command. Can you spare him?” Nehn questioned.

“Wardens are no ordinary warriors and mages, Inquisitor. We should send our best if we expect to fight them,” Cullen said firmly.

“Very well. My team will leave tomorrow. Scout Harding has already gone ahead to the Exalted Plains. Your templars can meet us at the forward camp she is establishing. I plan on asking Commander Helaine if she would be willing to travel with us as well. I would be able to continue my training, and she is a formidable battle-mage. If there is no other business, then I’d like to call the meeting to a close,” Nehn announced.

Nehn turned to leave quickly. She needed to speak with Helaine, and then she wanted to spend as much time as possible with her family. 

“Inquisitor!” Cullen called out and Nehn stopped hoping that he wouldn’t drag the meeting out longer. 

“Yes, Commander?”

“I just want to... just please, be careful and come back to us whole,” Cullen implored.

“Is that an order?” Nehn teased.

“I’m only your advisor, but I would strongly recommend it,” Cullen answered with a slight grin.

“Duly noted. And Cullen?”

“Yes, Inquisitor?”

“Please take care of yourself in my absence. And that _is_ an order,” Nehn said before giving him a quick hug.

“As you will, Inquisitor,” he answered while putting his hand to his chest in a salute.

*******************

Nehn started crying as she said goodbye to Sylvia, Sionn, Falon and Asha at the main gate of Skyhold the next morning. Asha, in particular, was inconsolable about her mother leaving and clung to Nehn begging to go along. Falon stepped in and held his sister to him tightly while Nehn mounted her horse. Sionn promised he would take care of everyone in her absence, and Sylvia encouraged Nehn to write as often as possible. At the last minute, Falon handed his mother a package. “Open it later. It’s from all of us. We love you, Mamae.”

“Ar lath ma,” Nehn choked out before putting her horse into a trot and leaving through the portcullis. Solas brought his horse alongside hers, but she waved him off. Nehn rode several lengths in front of her traveling party and spoke little for the majority of the day. 

By nightfall, they were halfway to the mountain pass that Cullen’s men had secured after Nehn’s encounter with the Avaar in the Fallow Mire. Nehn quickly set up her own tent and then helped her companions - her years of nomadic living giving her unrivaled efficiency in making camp. After gathering materials for a fire, she sat on her knees and prayed to Sylaise before flicking her wrist to ignite the kindling. She then sat lost in her own thoughts and staring into the flames while holding the package Falon had given her.

Varric sat beside her and asked, “Planning on opening it?”

“I can’t decide,” Nehn admitted.

“Hawke got like this sometimes. He’d make these enormous calls fighting corruption in Kirkwall with no problem, and then he’d sit for ages in the Hanged Man trying to decide which ale to order.”

“Really? So how did he deal with it?”

“Eventually, he just let one of us order for him. Like how you let Josephine handle the wedding reception. That was a smart move.”

“Funny. I just thought I was being lazy. I had no idea how to put together a reception that would please humans, and I didn’t care to learn. Things were just so much simpler with my clan,” Nehn explained with her voice breaking as she finished.

“Starting to hit you isn’t it?” Varric asked.

“What?” Nehn said while blinking furiously to stop tears from forming in her eyes.

“The shit that went down with your clan. It’s getting to you,” Varric pointed out,

Nehn nodded. “It’s that and leaving my kids and... I’m bothered by the choices I’m having to make as Inquisitor. At yesterday’s war council, I had to pick between rescuing some of our veterans or chasing Red Templars who had civilian captives.”

“That doesn’t sound like a situation where there was any ‘right’ answer. What did you decide on?”

Nehn rubbed her temples trying to ease the headache she’d had for the past day. “I chose to pursue our enemies rather than save our people. I completely betrayed the Vir Atish’an.”

“Look I don’t know anything about the Vir whatever, but I’m sure those people the Red Templars have captive appreciate your decision.”

“I wish I could say that was my motivation. I sought nothing but vengeance for what happened at Haven.” 

Varric felt out of his depth dealing with Nehn’s crisis of faith. He knew nothing of her beliefs, but he knew someone that did. He motioned to Solas for an assist. Solas, who had been watching their exchange from the periphery of camp, came closer and kneeled down beside Nehn. “You’re upset. We could go for a walk in the woods to clear your head if you’d like. The moons are both out, so we’ll have little trouble seeing.”

To Varric and Solas’ surprise and confusion, Nehn started snickering before saying, “Mythal knows I’m long overdue for a walk in the woods, but I don’t think I’d be very good company tonight.”

“As you wish, although I wouldn’t expect you to talk,” Solas said which caused Nehn to laugh even harder.

“Of course not, talking is strictly optional when walking in the woods,” Nehn responded before launching into a complete giggle fit.

Varric looked at Solas and questioned, “I get the distinct impression that I’m missing something. Do you know what her deal is?”

Solas shook his head and looked at Nehn with concern. Nehn finally composed herself by biting her lip and fanning her face with her hands. “I apologize. For my clan, ‘taking a walk in the woods’ has a double meaning. The Dalish live very closely together. Families often share a single aravel or tent. If you want to share affection with your lover, you go for a walk in the woods together. The practice is so common that it’s synonymous with sex.”

Varric hooted while Solas looked decidedly uncomfortable before breaking into a slight grin. Solas remarked, “That explains why you looked so utterly horrified when I suggested we take a walk together through Haven’s woods.”

“I can’t believe you remember that, but yes, absolutely. I had no clue if that phrase was common to all elves or just our clan. I didn’t want to risk finding out the hard way,” Nehn explained and then started guffawing at her use of the phrase ‘the hard way.’

Cassandra finally came over when Nehn began to clutch her sides which were growing sore from laughing. “Inquisitor, are you alright?” she asked.

“I’m fine. We were just talking about what a nice night it would be for a walk in the woods. I bet you haven’t been for a walk in a long time either.” Nehn replied which made Varric’s shoulders shake as he tried not to laugh.

“I don’t really care for such things,” Cassandra said.

“That explains a lot,” Varric deadpanned while Nehn wiped tears from laughing from her eyes. Solas looked aggravated with their childish jokes and began to stand to leave.

Nehn grabbed his arm, “No, don’t go, hahren. I’ll take you up on your offer. Just for a walk, though, not a _walk_.”

Varric snorted and waved them off while Cassandra folded her arms and scowled sure that she was the butt of some joke.

“Very well,” Solas said while helping Nehn to her feet and passing her staff to her.

As they exited camp, Nehn slid closer to Solas, put her arm around his waist, and rested her head against the side of his chest. “You’re ridiculously tall for an elf,” she commented.

“You just haven’t met many elves, but they’d all agree that you’re quite short for one.”

“Haven’t met many elves? I’m _Dalish_ , hahren. We pretty much deal only with elves,” Nehn teased.

Solas shrugged. Changing the subject, he asked, “What made Varric ask me to speak to you?”

“Sera would probably characterize it as ‘elfy shite.’ I’m worried that I’m betraying the path of peace with some of my choices,” Nehn explained.

“You follow what the Dalish remember the Vir Atish’an to be. My journeys in the Fade reveal that its practice was once more nuanced. Sylaise did value home, healing and the arts, but like fire she could both nurture and destroy. Countless numbers of her enemies and, at times, even her followers were sacrificed to her flames.”

“So what I know of Sylaise is wrong?” Nehn sighed.

“The Dalish have a great deal of misunderstanding when it comes to the Creators. As far as their representations go, Sylaise is one of the less distorted. The ‘gods’ were all flawed. They weren’t truly gods unless you stretch the definition to a point of absurdity.”

“You say that, but then you admit the enormous power and influence they held,” Nehn argued.

“A true god would not need to prove herself with displays of power,” Solas responded. 

Nehn and Solas walked together in silence for some time before she stopped and put a hand to his chest. “What is it?” he asked.

“There’s something else bothering me. I don’t know how to do this ... this being with someone thing.”

“I don’t understand, da’len. You were married - happily it would seem.”

“Yes, that’s just it. I loved him. I still love him. I’m not sure I can feel that way about someone else. I don’t want to be dishonest with you. I miss being with a man. I miss having someone to hold me as I sleep and ... other things. And you make me feel fluttery and wonderful, but ... Fenedhis - I’m terrible at explaining myself,” Nehn said with exasperation.

“You wouldn’t be the first woman to want to use me for sex,” Solas replied while thinking about Andruil.

“Mythal’enaste! I didn’t mean... I don’t want to be someone that uses people. I just want us to be honest with each other.”

“Nehn, I don’t feel like I’m being used. I enjoy being with you, and I’m fairly sure you like being with me,” Solas said as he put a hand on her cheek. Nehn closed her eyes and relished feeling his skin against hers.

“I do like this,” she said before standing on her tip toes to kiss him. “And this.”

“Then we’re in agreement,” he answered before kissing her more deeply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bouncing back and forth to Skyhold between missions bothered me - especially on ones as long as going out to the Western Approach. Nehn isn't going to waste time going across Orlais twice. She's going to get things done out west and wash her hands of the sandy mess for some time. : )


	41. Chapter 41

Nehn cuddled up to her pillow and cursed the dawn. Usually, she was an early riser, but the past week of training with Helaine in the morning, breaking up camp, riding until dusk, and setting up a new camp had left her spent. They had finally made it to the Inquisition’s forward camp in the Exalted Plains, though that was little relief. From Scout Harding’s report, the area was wracked by civil war, had numerous fade rifts, and an overabundance of reanimated corpses. _Why did it always have to be the walking dead? They are just so creepy, and they smell awful,_ Nehn groused to herself. 

Her relationship with Solas was another factor contributing to her fatigue. They still met nightly in the Fade, studying magic and dream walking together. Their waking interactions were complicated by their desire for privacy and strong mutual attraction. Waiting until their comrades had turned in for the night and then slipping off together had seemed like a fair solution, but Nehn and Solas both had large sleep requirements. Although they hadn’t had sex yet, it seemed inevitable in the near future. She was going to have to see if he was willing to simply share her tent which would lead to scads of unwanted remarks from her companions. 

Nehn sat up, stretched, and quickly said her morning prayers. After fastening her armor over her leathers, she combed through her hair and splashed her face with water. Stepping out of her tent, she put her hair in a pony tail and went to meet Helaine for what would invariably be another ass-whupping. Nehn hoped she would master the spectral sword soon because her body was rife with bruises earned by sparring with Helaine who she referred to as the evil elven bitch - only in her mind, of course. Commander Helaine had yet to arise, so Nehn took the chance to sit by Bull and eat a light breakfast.

“How’s it going, Boss?” 

“There isn’t a place on me that isn’t sore or bruised, Bull.”

“It’s going good then. Commander Helaine is getting you ready to start fighting up front.” 

Nehn looked around to make sure Helaine wasn’t near and then leaned close to Bull to whisper, “She’s a sadist.”

“No, she’s saving your life working your ass off now. Bruises and blows taken during a spar are preferable to losing an arm or bleeding out on the battlefield. You’re not going to go all squishy mage on me - are you?”

Nehn laid back on the ground and moaned, “No, I’m not a squishy mage. I’m just a very bruised, very tired one.”

“You wouldn’t be nearly as worn out if you weren’t sneaking off with Solas for half the night,” Bull said with a wry grin.

“I want my private life to be ... private.”

“No way, Boss. Catching crap from your friends is the price of admission for being in a relationship. Just like those bruises Helaine’s been giving you in training.” 

Nehn growled slightly in response and took a bite from her bowl of porridge. It irked her to no end that Bull could sleep with whomever he wanted and no one said anything. Gods forbid she do the same. She nearly said as much to him, but Helaine had emerged from her tent and was glaring at Nehn.

“I’m off to get a fresh set of bruises. Later, Bull,” Nehn announced as she stood and followed Helaine.

Fifteen minutes into their training session, Nehn and Helaine had drawn a crowd. The templars traveling with them had been pulled by the amount of magic being used like it was a siren’s song. They stood in rapt fascination watching Nehn and Helaine battle using swords created by their will rather than a blacksmith’s forge. Solas, Cassandra, and Bull stood together and watched the spar as well.

“The Inquisitor is improving,” Solas said with a glint of admiration in his eye.

Bull looked at him like he was insane and said, “Improving? She’s starting to kick Helaine’s ass!”

“The Inquisitor still needs to watch her flank better, but I am ... impressed with how far she has come. Commander Helaine is an excellent instructor no matter how much Nehn complains about her,” Cassandra added.

“Much better!” Helaine boomed as the session ended. “You are realizing your ability to command. You will lead from the front, and your enemies will fear you.”

“I’d be satisfied with staying alive and not losing,” Nehn said under her breath and hobbled over to her friends.

“That was awesome, Boss! It’s coming together for you,” Bull enthused while clapping Nehn hard on the back. She coughed and winced at the force of his blow but thanked him for the sentiment. Cassandra pointed out flaws in her defense but complimented her overall performance. Solas maintained his aloof facade and said simply, “Well done, Inquisitor.”

“Solas, I could use some healing. I’ll be in my tent,” Nehn grunted.

“Oh, is that what they call it now?” Bull joked.

Solas glared at Bull, and then caught up to Nehn who was limping markedly. Offering his assistance, he put an arm around her waist, so she wouldn’t have to bear weight on her sore leg. They disappeared inside her tent without looking back.

“You needn’t be so crass, Bull,” Cassandra chastised. “If their being together makes her happy, I am behind it even if I don’t understand it.”

“She’s happy now. Will she be that way six months from today?” Bull asked.

“None of us are guaranteed permanent happiness. Let her enjoy what she’s found while it lasts,” Cassandra stated and stalked away.

Nehn sat on her cot, and tried to roll up her pants leg to show her injured knee. She found that she couldn’t get the leather to move high enough, so she slipped off her pants and pointed to her leg which was purpling and swelling.

“How did that happen? That isn’t an injury her sword would have caused,” Solas questioned.

“I stepped in a hole and twisted it while I was sparring. Cassandra would call it a lack of battlefield awareness. I just call it painful. The session has me drained. Can you heal it?”

“Of course,” he said and set to work sending tendrils of healing magic into her knee to repair the wrenched ligaments and tendons. She murmured her thanks as she laid back on the cot and closed her eyes.

“Finished,” Solas announced after a few minutes. “Test it out.” 

After sitting up, Nehn flexed and extended her knee several times. “Thank you.”

“Anything else?” 

“Perhaps kiss to make it all better?” Nehn flirted.

Solas chuckled and placed a small kiss on her knee.

“Not what I was wanting,” Nehn corrected, and held her arms out to him. With a smirk, he leaned over to kiss her again - on the lips. “Much better,” she approved while lacing her hands behind his neck and tugging him down on top of her. His hands briefly slid along her torso and across the tops of her thighs before he stopped.

“Not now,” he said and stood up. “You have business to attend. This cannot distract us from our purpose.” He accentuated his point with a playful pop to her uninjured leg. 

Nehn grudgingly agreed and pulled her pants back on. “I’m really beginning to resent Corypheus,” she said with a wink.

“Reports, Inquisitor,” a scout greeted Nehn the second she stepped out of her tent. Sorting through them, she chose the one with Sylvia’s handwriting to read first. She sat near the fire and opened it.

“Few people smile when reading reports. Who’s that from?” Varric asked.

“Sylvia - she’s keeping me updated. Everyone is doing well. Asha is trying to convince Sionn to make her armor like Lysette’s.”

“Still wanting to be a templar then. Well, if Dagna could study at the Circles of Magi...”

“I guess stranger things could happen,” Nehn said. “With so few untainted templars remaining, the mages will have to look at how to best police themselves. Mages dedicated to safeguarding others might be a solution. It would certainly make Asha happy to be a protector like Lysette or Cullen.”

“Speaking of Curly, have you told him about Solas and you?” 

“No, why would I? Cullen isn’t one to care about others' private affairs,” Nehn replied.

“He doesn’t care about most people’s business I agree. You’re the exception. I just think he’d appreciate hearing it from you,” Varric advised. 

“Why is everyone so concerned with my still nonexistent sex life?” Nehn nearly shouted but then controlled her volume to a whisper.

“Whoa! Sorry, Sassy, I didn’t mean to hit a sore spot.”

Nehn rubbed her temples and said, “No, I apologize. I shouldn’t be so cross. I’m frustrated and tired. If Bull can bed a different person every night, why does everyone care so much who I spend my time with?”

“For one thing, you’re not Bull. He’s Qunari, and their ideas about love and sex are very different. Secondly, we want what’s best for you. If you think that is being with Chuckles, fantastic - but you shouldn’t settle.”

“Varric, I’m not under the illusion that I’ll find my life’s great love with Solas, and I’ve told him as much. I had that with Garel, and no one can replace him. Maybe someday I’ll be able to let go, but I just can’t do it yet. That probably doesn’t make sense to you.”

“No, actually I get that. Some day when we’ve got some time and more privacy, I’ll tell you about Bianca - the real one, not the crossbow,” Varric said while squeezing her shoulder. 

Nehn’s eyes teared up some. “So there really is a Bianca... I’m glad there’s someone who understands.”

Varric started to walk away and then said, “I still don’t think you should settle. If anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s you.”

“Varric, the same applies to you,” Nehn insisted. 

Varric waved her off. “Naw, I only write stories. I don’t live them.”


	42. Chapter 42

On their first patrol outside of camp, Nehn and her party encountered battlements infested with undead and arcane horrors. Speaking with a soldier they saved from a reanimated skeleton, Nehn learned that several former strongholds in the area were now populated by shambling corpses. _Fan-fucking-tastic. So much for breezing through the Exalted Plains,_ Nehn thought as he shared his story and urged the Inquisition’s intervention. By the end of the day, Nehn and her companions had cleared the first set of battlements.

“Burn it to the ground - all of it,” Nehn ordered.

“Wait, these were in active use by Gaspard’s forces until recently. We might cause an incident if we destroy them,” Cassandra argued.

“We can’t leave this fortification standing. Any number of groups, including the Freemen of the Dales, could reclaim it. None of this should be in the Dales,” Nehn replied and then conjured her own flames. 

The other mages helped while Rylen’s templars carried torches to light the fires elsewhere. Nehn stood with her arms crossed watching the wood ramparts go up in smoke. Solas observed her carefully, and then came to stand beside her. “You are indeed a follower of Sylaise. Your purpose in burning these ramparts is larger than making sure an enemy force doesn’t use them.” 

She glanced at him and then let her eyes return to the flames. “These are the Dales. No human armies should be here. _No one_ should be here without our leave.”

“You would see the Dales restored to the elves,” Solas said with a mixture of pride and concern. “Would you try to reclaim what was Elvhenan as well?” Solas questioned.

“If I could do it without destroying this world, yes,” Nehn answered without hesitating.

“What makes you think it would destroy the world?”

“If the legends are true, rebuilding Elvhenan would require finding and releasing our gods. Do you think Fen’Harel would take such an affront lightly?”

“I didn’t expect a Dalish to take the Dread Wolf’s feelings into account,” Solas said cagily.

“If the Dalish know anything, it is that Fen’Harel is not to be angered or underestimated. He brought both the Creators and Forgotten Ones to their knees using only his cunning. Our only hope for survival is to avoid his notice and wrath,” Nehn countered before rekindling some flames that had begun to die down.

“That seems prudent if you believe him to be your enemy, although few things that involve the gods are so black and white,” Solas replied.

That evening at camp after the fire on the nearby battlements had burned out, Nehn outlined a plan for dealing with the other areas infested with the undead. Helaine, Solas, Cole, Cassandra, and Sera would lead a contingent of templars to Victory Rise while Nehn and the others would head to the Eastern Ramparts. “If we work efficiently but carefully, we will have both reclaimed and alight in four days time,” Nehn said. “Then we’ll move to clear any identified rifts in the area. Cullen’s forces and Leliana’s agents should be able to manage stabilizing the region after that.” _If not, I seriously wonder why we even have an army or spies,_ Nehn thought but kept to herself.

“It’s a good plan, Boss. Might not go quite as easily as you make it seem, but I think you’re right that we need to keep our sights set on getting out west as fast as we can,” Bull added.

The next day they split off into three groups, Helaine’s heading west by northwest to Victory Ridge, Nehn’s northeast to the Eastern Ramparts, and Inquisition scouts northwest to set up camp for an eventual rendezvous. Helaine’s party easily cleared Victory Rise and reached the new camp a day ahead of schedule. Nehn’s party encountered more resistance at the eastern ramparts - eventually taking down a Venatori mage named Gordian that had been behind the plot to populate the region with undead. Nehn’s group made it to the rendezvous at nearly midnight on the fourth day.

She slipped into a nearby river to bathe and then thought about setting up her tent. It seemed like too much work for as bone tired as she felt, so she decided to ask Solas if she could sleep with him for the night instead. She nearly balked at her forwardness as she stood outside his tent flap, but the thought of being able to rest next to someone rather than sleep alone was too appealing.

Nehn went into his tent, kneeled beside his bedroll, and gently shook him awake. “Solas, may I sleep here tonight, please?”

Solas looked disoriented for a moment, and then scooted over slightly to make room for her. She made her pallet beside his and then laid down, falling asleep almost immediately. Nehn didn’t search for Solas in the Fade, and instead let her mind float wherever it willed. The next morning she woke resting in the crook of Solas’ arm with one of her legs draped over his torso. She laid still a few minutes drinking in his scent and listening to the rhythm of his breathing. _Gods, I’ve missed this,_ she thought about awakening entwined with someone.

She started to get up, but her movement stirred him and he pulled her closer. “It’s not light yet, da’len. Rest longer,” he whispered as he kissed the top of her head and then closed his eyes.

Nehn battled with herself. She could stay still and maybe fall back to sleep, or she could try to seduce him. She hated feeling as if she was always making the first move, but she was also feeling libidinous. Hormones won out over pride as she started to kiss his neck and rub her leg over his groin. She bit her lip when she felt his body responding to her affections, but he still hadn’t opened his eyes. She redoubled her efforts nipping at his earlobe and rubbing her hand against his chest while cooing for him to wake up.

He took a deep breath and quickly moved to pin her underneath him. “Were you never taught it is rude to interrupt someone’s slumber?” he asked while pressing himself against her.

“Ir abelas, hahren. I was raised that there were extenuating circumstances where it might be appropriate to disrupt someone’s rest,” she answered playfully while wrapping her legs around him and trying to kiss his lips.

“And you think your desires qualify?” he growled as he moved to avoid her lips.

“Absolutely,” she replied while arching her back to press her breasts against his chest.

“Fortunately for you, you would be correct,” Solas answered while sending a cascading wave of tingly magic through Nehn before kissing her lips.

Nehn’s breath caught at the sensations, and then she purred, “You have got to teach me how to do that.”

“Gladly,” he answered before thrusting against her. 

Nehn kissed his neck and began to pull at his tunic. Her hand tangled in his wolf bone necklace, and she had to wait while he slowly extricated it while kissing her palm and sucking her fingers.

“Fenedhis! You’re such a tease,” she said in frustration when he finally freed her.

“You’ve said yourself that I enjoy games, da’len. Care to play?”

_Oh, gods, yes,_ she thought and breathed her assent in a husky voice.

“Excellent,” he responded then rolled off her and stood up.

Nehn whimpered with disappointment which made Solas smile wolfishly. “You think I’m seduced so easily, da’len? You’ll learn to be patient and polite.”

Nehn began to protest, but Solas held up a finger to silence her. “I am, however, not insensitive to your needs,” he said with a feral glint in his eye. Nehn felt a warmth in her core as her mana began to swirl in response to his magic tingling against her. “You’ve never been with a mage,” he stated while watching her intently, and she shook her head. The sensations he was creating were at the same time too much and not enough for Nehn. Her breathing grew shallow and her eyes closed.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “I won’t have you fantasizing that anyone else is making you feel this way.” Nehn obeyed and felt guilty that she probably would have done just that. He rewarded her by regulating the intensity and frequency of his magical sensations. She was teetering on the brink and struggling to keep her eyes open when he said, “Remember your manners, da’len.”

“Please,” she whispered which made him triumphantly smug. He again changed the warm tingling magic she felt, and she came violently, writhing in ecstasy before curling in on herself giggling. “Ma serannas,” she said in absolute awe of how he had made her feel without laying a finger on her.

He bowed his head and said, “It was my pleasure.”

Nehn got to her knees in front of him and stopped short of undoing the laces to his breeches. “May I?” she asked remembering to be polite.

“That is not necessary, but thank you,” he said with gleeful satisfaction. “Perhaps another time when you’ve shown sufficient patience. The dawn is upon us. You should leave now if you want to avoid your friends’ commentary.”

“Let them talk,” Nehn replied and then laid back on her bedroll. “I think I’ll sleep in this morning.” Solas beamed and returned to his own pallet to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to see over 200 kudos and nearly 4000 hits. Thanks also to those who take the thought and time to comment. Your comments especially keep my writing sharp and focused. Hits, kudos, and comments are like oreos to me - I can never have enough. Ma serannas!


	43. Chapter 43

Nehn sat down with her inner circle, Commander Helaine, and Knight-Captain Rylen to review what they had learned when reclaiming the ramparts.

“Fort Revasan, the main garrison for Gaspard’s forces, was near the Eastern Ramparts. I spoke with the officer in charge, Marshall Proulx, and told him what we were doing with his fortifications,” Nehn reported.

“I’m sure he was not pleased,” Cassandra commented.

“Actually, he was relieved. He doesn’t have the men to staff them, and the soldiers he does have still are completely demoralized. _And the whiniest group of shems I’ve ever met._ He did ask me to look into a riverside garrison a ways to the north. They have not heard word from anyone at the garrison in weeks, and he fears that something similar may have occurred there as with the battlements.”

Cassandra spoke, “Celene’s forces are located on the other side of a broken bridge to the north. We could look into having the Inquisition repair it to reach them.”

“Let’s not be in a hurry to do that,” Nehn said. “Right now there is a physical obstacle keeping Gaspard and Celene’s men separate. Let it keep the peace between them. The vultures won’t appreciate our non-interference, but the families of soldiers on both sides will. Perhaps there will be a detente negotiated in the meantime.”

“We should investigate the riverside garrison and seal any fade rifts our scouts have found, then leave the Exalted Plains. The problem with the wardens is festering as we stay here,” Nehn concluded.

“Let’s go kick some ass!” Bull shouted.

“That’ll work, too,” Nehn said.

The Inquisitor and her agents stuck to the plan and in the course of two weeks time had freed the riverside garrison, sealed numerous fade rifts, collected some strange elven glyphs, and encountered a Dalish clan. Although it slowed their progress through the region, Nehn felt obligated to help the elves she met and in return earned their loyalty and respect for the Inquisition. One young elf that Nehn guessed to be around Sylvia’s age had even sought and been granted permission to join the Inquisition. Nehn was elated that more elves like her would be at Skyhold. She was also thrilled to write to Sylvia that she had not only seen but herded a golden halla.

She didn’t try to hide her tryst, but instead choose to share a tent with Solas every night. Nehn relished sleeping next to him while walking together in dreams. It was sweet and sensual to share so much with him. When they were awake and alone, Solas took her to places of whispered ecstasy and even occasionally allowed her to pleasure him. They never had sex in the strictest sense of the word but shared nearly every other intimacy. Nehn assumed his particular reluctance for intercourse came out of a concern for an unwanted pregnancy or the relative newness of their involvement and didn’t press the issue.

Emotionally, Nehn felt more content than she had since before she left her clan for the Conclave. To her surprise, she had developed a greater affection for Solas than she had anticipated, and some of the heartache she had felt at Garel’s loss began to fade. While she wouldn’t go so far as to say she loved Solas, being with him was proving to be very healing and made her think it might be possible to fall in love again. She felt lighter than she had in years even though she was spending her days fighting demons and Venatori.

Nehn’s companions noticed how happy she seemed. When Sera, Dorian, Bull, and Varric were out of earshot, they started to discuss the changes they’d witnessed.

“Anybody else blown away by how well things are going between the Boss and Solas?” Bull asked.

“They’re both practically different people,” Dorian said. “He borders on being friendly, and she hasn’t cried once in three weeks.”

“Maybe she just really needed to get laid,” Sera conjectured. “Shoulda taken her to a brothel ages ago if that’s all it took to pull her out of that funk.”

“Maybe. There were some tamassrans that could ... mmmm...” Bull paused for a moment lost in a lurid memory. “Yeah, they could make you forget just about anything. The Chantry’s got it wrong making its priesthood celibate.”

“I’m happy that she’s happy,” Varric said. “But this is the honeymoon phase. I’ve just got this itching suspicion that it’s all going to go to pot.”

“That or you wish it would,” Sera blurted out. “You’ve got a thing for Inky yourself.”

“Buttercup, _everyone_ has a thing for her. She does hold the fate of the world in her tiny little hand,” Varric answered. 

Sera started to argue with Varric, but Nehn wandered within earshot. She called out to Nehn instead. “Hey, Inky, are you going to come hang out with us, or are you just going to skitter off with Elfy?”

Nehn walked over and said, “I was going to get the present Falon gave me right before we left. Sylvia is incensed that I haven’t opened it. I was saving it for a rough day, but evidently that isn’t acceptable according to her last letter.”

“I wanna see what they got you,” Sera said.

“Okay, let me get the package, and I’ll open it with you guys.” Nehn took off toward her tent, grabbed the present, and returned to her friends. Varric had clued Cole and Cassandra in that Nehn was finally getting around to unwrapping her gift, so they joined the others.

“What about Solas?” Dorian asked.

“He’s sleeping and hates to be woken up. He won’t mind missing it,” Nehn said.

“It’s the middle of the day, and he’s napping like a toddler. Wonder what has him so tired, hmmmm?” Dorian questioned in an accusatory tone while elbowing Nehn.

Nehn turned slightly pink and cleared her throat. “He’s used to getting more sleep than he has been lately,” Nehn answered while blushing a bit redder.

“The Boss wore his ass out! Up top, Boss!” Bull said while holding his hand out for her to hit.

Nehn lowered her head and covered her face in embarrassment.

“No, none of that. Be proud!” Bull ordered while keeping his hand up.

Nehn looked at his hand, sighed reluctantly, and finally high-fived it.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Bull exclaimed. “Drinks on me the next tavern we hit.”

“None of that Qunari firewater you had me try, though. I want a nice mead,” Nehn demanded before holding up her gift. She unwrapped the package and opened a small box. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she started to cry.

“Vishante kaffas, woman, you broke a three week tear-free stretch. What is it?” Dorian questioned.

“It’s a necklace similar to the one Garel made for me, but instead of an eagle, it has three charms - one for each of my children. See there’s a halla for Sylvia, a bow and arrow for Falon, and a snowflake for Asha.”

“I get the first two, but why a snowflake for Dimple?” Varric queried using his nickname for Asha.

“Her magic manifested with snow falling in the summer when she wished it was cooler,” Nehn said proudly.

“So non-destructive. I set a wing of my parents’ house afire when I was four as part of a tantrum when my nanny wouldn’t let me have a cookie,” Dorian recounted.

“Four? That’s so young to come into magic,” Nehn said in awe.

“I _am_ rather special. I think I’ve mentioned that before,” Dorian answered with a flourish. 

Nehn handed the necklace to Dorian and held up her hair. “Put it on me, please.”

“Your son-in-law makes lovely jewelry, but his clasps are next to impossible to work,” Dorian complained as he wrestled with the necklace. “There. Success at last. My recommendation is to never take it off. That clasp is almost as persnickety as my mother.”

The necklace fell so that the three charms were level with Nehn’s heart. She put a hand over them. “Ma len, ma vhenan.”

“Translation for the dwarf?” Varric asked.

“My children, my heart,” she said. “It’s a lullaby that I sang to them. It would translate roughly, _You hold my heart forever, but I give you yours. Find your passion, find your love and share your heart with them_.”

“So they gave you pendants signifying their passions to wear next to your heart. I’m dying here,” a misty-eyed Dorian announced. “I don’t think this particular round of tears should count against your three-week stretch.”

“I had no idea that you were keeping track of my crying, Dorian,” Nehn laughed. “But I’m glad happy tears don’t count against me.” 

Solas came out of his tent and his eyes searched the camp for Nehn. Seeing her laughing and surrounded by her friends, he walked over to them trying his best to mask his emotions.

“Inquisitor, a word?” he asked.

“I bet you want more than just a word with her,” Bull said lustily.

Solas ignored him and looked at Nehn imploringly. She got up and went over to him. “What do you need, Solas?”

He walked away from the others before speaking, “A favor, da’len.”

“You’ve only to ask. What has you upset?”

Solas described how a spirit friend of his had called out to him while he slept. The spirit, which embodied Wisdom, had been summoned against its will and bound by mages. Solas couldn’t guess the purpose of the binding, but requested help from Nehn to free his friend. As he spoke, his eyes were desperate as he paced and threw his hands in the air several times while describing what had happened.

“Fortunately, I think it is not far from where we are,” Solas said and looked at Nehn expectantly.

“Then we’ll go now, hahren. Who should we take with us?” Nehn asked.

“Only those that typically travel with us. I am concerned how Commander Helaine or the templars would react to a spirit.”

Nehn walked over to her friends who had been watching the interchange closely - fascinated by the animation and emotion that Solas displayed. “Solas needs our help. Get your gear and then get your horses. We leave immediately. I’ll tell you more when we’re away from camp.”

Bull approached Cassandra as she readied her horse, “The Boss wants to take this one off the books, does that concern you?”

“I trust her judgment and promised I would go where she led,” Cassandra replied while mounting her horse. “But it does worry me that she is being secretive. It isn’t her way. It is, however, his.”

Bull growled a little in the back of his throat. “My thoughts exactly, Seeker.”

Nehn and her companions rode hard to near where Solas suspected his friend was being held. Nehn pulled up her mare, and slid out of the saddle. “We’ll need to leave the horses here. Solas has a friend -a spirit - that was taken captive. He thinks it may have been summoned nearby.”

“Summoned?” Cassandra asked with a raised eyebrow. “As in a demon?”

“Not necessarily a demon,” Dorian answered. “I summon lesser spirits and wisps all the time as part of necromancy. What type of spirit is your friend, Solas?”

“Wisdom. Please, we need to hurry,” Solas implored.

“It’s okay, Solas. We’ll get there in time,” Nehn soothed. “Sera, would you mind staying with the horses? I know magic and spirits make you uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, I’ll gladly stay away from that shite,” Sera answered. “If anyone tries to take our horses, I’ll fill them full of arrows.”

“Good. If anyone else is uncertain, you may remain with Sera,” Nehn said but no one else wanted to stay behind. 

The group began to track the mages that Solas thought had taken his friend. They found a corpse that had been killed by an arrow and deduced that the mages had been beset by bandit attacks. A little while later, Nehn found several mangled and charred bodies which bore distinctive claw marks. It was difficult to tell with what little remained, but Nehn supposed they were the bandits.

“No, no, no....” Solas said in a panicked voice. Nehn reached out a hand and rested it on his arm. “Don’t worry. This doesn’t have to mean what you think it does,” she whispered.

Rounding a bend, Nehn saw what she knew Solas had feared - an enormous pride demon in the center of a summoning circle.

“Why is it always demons?” Bull complained.

“If that was your friend, it has been corrupted,” Dorian said while looking at the demon warily.

Solas paced trying to figure out what had happened. “They must have forced it to do something against its nature after binding it. What to do? What to do?”

As Solas reasoned and paced, a pudgy faced middle-aged mage approached the group asking for assistance and lyrium potions to fight the demon.

“You’re kidding, right?” Nehn asked.

“You summoned that demon except it was a spirit of wisdom at the time. You made it kill. You twisted it against its purpose,” Solas yelled at the cowering mage.

The mage stammered and said that he knew those not versed in demonology might be confused by what was happening but that he could explain after they had helped kill the demon. Solas, who had been adjusting his gloves and trying to control his rage, snarled, “We’re not here to help you.”

Nehn felt Solas magic begin to build as he crossed his arms and focused on the unctuous mage. She’d never seen Solas this angry, and the idiot before them had no clue that he was in as much danger from the seething apostate in front of him as the demon in the summoning circle. She spoke to the mage “Word of advice, I’d hold off on trying to explain spirits or demons to my friend.”

Undeterred, the mage continued speaking and claimed to have been an expert in the Kirkwall Circle.

“You mean the one that the Commander of my forces annulled three years ago?” Nehn said calling him out on his lie. “He’s very thorough. I doubt he’d have missed a sniveling dolt like you.”

The man started to speak again and Solas said firmly, “Shut up.” Solas turned to Nehn, “The summoning circle. We break it. We break the binding. No orders to kill. No conflict with its nature. No demon.”

Nehn agreed with his logic but also knew there was a catch. “It will fight us as we try to break the circle. Bull, Cole, Cassandra, and I could fan out each taking a stone. Bull will likely be able to break two in the time it takes the rest of us to shatter one. If Dorian and you maintain our barriers, we should be able to concentrate on the stones and ignore the attacks. Particularly if Varric is willing to provide a distraction.”

“The only way I’m playing demon bait is if you give me some insight into what is going on between the two of you,” Varric bargained.

“Done. With as much detail as your dwarven mind desires,” Nehn answered while Solas looked disgusted and resigned. “Cole and I will take the two farthest stones, since we can move the fastest. Cassandra can take that one. Bull, if you could get the closest two, we stand a chance of freeing it before we have to kill it. Solas, if its attacks become too much, I will use my mark to destroy it.”

Solas sighed, “I understand, Inquisitor. I hope it will not come to that.”

“As do I,” Nehn replied while putting a hand on Solas’ chest and trying to make eye contact with him. He eventually looked at her and nodded.

“I’m beginning to wish I’d opted to stay back with Sera,” Varric mumbled. Nehn said a prayer to Mythal for protection and Andruil for speed then gave the signal. While Dorian and Solas maintained barriers on the group, Varric moved in and out of stealth taunting the demon and laying small traps to distract it. The rest of the group hacked at the stones that made up the summoning circle with their weapons. Miraculously, they were able to break the circle without anyone being seriously injured and the pride demon reverted into a spirit resembling a young elven woman with glowing green eyes.

The spirit was weak and spoke to Solas in elven in a halting, pained voice. She thanked him for aiding her, encouraged him to endure, and asked him to help her die. Nehn understood the spirit’s words and clasped a hand over her mouth when she saw Solas’ heartbreak at honoring his friend’s last request. “Dareth shiral,” he said as his friend dissolved away.

“I heard what it said. It was right. You helped it,” Nehn said quietly.

“Now I must endure,” Solas said. Nehn’s heart clenched at his words. How many times had she said the same things when faced with loss? It was a truly elven approach to grief that few outside their kind could understand.

“Let me know if I can help,” Nehn responded reflexively and then wanted to kick herself. How do you help someone grieve? 

Solas didn’t seem bothered by her knee jerk placation and said, “You already have.” Then he turned toward the mages that had created the circle and said with ferocious intensity, “All that remains is them.”

In that moment, Nehn knew that Solas intended to kill the mages. The Vir Atish’an demanded that she intervene and try to find a peaceful solution. She willfully turned away from the path of peace in favor of justice. The mages deserved death. Their shortsighted misuse of magic had created a monster, and she felt certain they would cause further destruction if left to their own devices. 

She stood silent as he stalked toward them and shouted their transgressions as they backed away their mouths full of excuses but not contrition. Had they shown remorse she might have stopped Solas, but they did not. Instead, she watched as he killed all three with a single spell. “Damn them all,” he cursed his face still contorted with rage. Without turning toward Nehn he said more gently, “I need some time alone. I will find you in the Western Approach.”

As Solas walked toward Sera to get his horse, Nehn sat down beside the river that was near where the spirit had been summoned. She felt another blinding headache approaching and tried to head it off with a healing spell to no avail. Rolling her neck trying to get the knots out of her shoulders, Nehn closed her eyes and replayed the events of the past few minutes in her head. 

Two things were bothering her, and both were about Solas. How had he been able to kill three mages with a single spell? He broke through their barriers and annihilated them as if he were lighting a candle. He had never shown such destructive power even when their lives had been endangered. Had his anger fueled his spell or had he been holding back during his time with the Inquisition? The other thing niggling at Nehn was how he gently dispersed the spirit’s essence, sending the pieces back to the Fade without opening a rift or physically attacking Wisdom. What type of magic allowed that?

She was also worried about Solas’ safety. He was distraught and taking off on his own. Nehn had never been more tempted by demons than right after Garel’s death. They promised her the power to bring him back or to find him in the Fade if she would just allow them to possess her. They were persistent and relentless with their enticements. Their attacks and grief itself had left her nearly debilitated. Only her determination to make sure their children weren’t orphaned and her desire to see that their needs were met had kept her from succumbing. What would keep Solas grounded?

Bull came over to Nehn and held a healing potion out to her. “Looks like you’re working up a doozy of a headache.”

“Thanks, Bull,” Nehn said as she downed the potion hoping it would at least take away the shearing and blurring of her vision. “I’m afraid this fight got to me. Something feels off, and I’m concerned for Solas.”

“He’ll be okay. He just needs some time to work through things.”

“I hope you’re right,” Nehn said and then clutched her necklace, “Looks like I opened this on a rough day after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heading off to the Western Approach, the wardens, and Hawke. Nehn's slowly recognizing some inconsistencies about Solas, too. What will cause her to finally call him out on his lies? _Tune in next week, same bat time, same bat channel._ \- Wait, wrong series. ;)


	44. Chapter 44

The ride out to the Western Approach was smooth. After handling issues in the Exalted Plains, the Inquisitor’s party had traveled on the Imperial Highway for several days which allowed them to rest in taverns rather than making camp. Although Nehn preferred sleeping outdoors in general, she liked the variety of food that staying in taverns afforded. Everyone else appreciated having a solid roof over their heads while they slept. In between Val Firmin and Velun, they left the highway and headed due west to the where the Abyssal Reach stretched across western Orlais like a deep, jagged scar.

Every night, Nehn searched for Solas in the Fade using the skills he had taught her. No matter how much she concentrated on his defining characteristics, she could not locate him and became more panicked with each unsuccessful attempt that something dreadful had happened to him. 

As worried as she was about Solas, she enjoyed the time on the road with her companions. Her wanderlust was satisfied by seeing new parts of the world and hearing the tales shared by her friends along the way. Bull told funny anecdotes about jobs the Chargers had taken in Orlais. It seemed his group had done a little bit of everything from wyvern hunts to giant baiting. The only thing remaining on Bull’s to-do-before-dying list seemed to be fighting a high dragon. Nehn wasn’t particularly inclined to help him cross that one off for fear it might lead to “the dying” part before it was completed.

Nehn also loved the arid desert air. There was no mud to walk through or ice to slip on - only miles and miles of warm sand. They could stay out in the Western Approach permanently as far as she was concerned. She wasn’t wet, she wasn’t cold, and there were hardly any people or settlements. The only negatives she had identified were occasional encounters with sulfurous gases and fairly aggressive wildlife which were preferable to boggy swamps, frigid mountains, and rotting, shambling corpses to her mind.

Her fair skin burned at first under the persistent desert sun until Dorian taught her to make a protective lotion to cover her skin. With regular applications of the sunscreening tincture, she no longer burned and instead her skin turned golden with a smattering of freckles across her cheeks. When they met up with Scout Harding at the forward camp in the Western Approach, Nehn shared the recipe with the dwarf who shared Nehn’s pale complexion.

“I didn’t think it possible for you to become more adorable, but those freckles are precious,” Dorian told her while pointing to her cheeks when they were riding out from camp.

“The sun’s bringing out the red in your hair, too. Looks like the desert suits you, Boss,” Bull added. 

“It’s never happening, Bull,” Nehn teased knowing Bull had a fetish for redheads.

“I’m going to wear you down, Boss. No one can resist forever. Look at these muscles. I’m chiseled perfection,” Bull replied while flexing and waggling his eyebrows.

Nehn laughed so hard that she snorted which made her mare buck. Nehn fell off her mount and landed on the ground with a poof of sand coming up around her. “You owe me a new butt, Bull. I just broke this one,” she said while standing and rubbing her ass.

Cole caught her horse and brought it back. “She didn’t mean to make you fall. You just startled her.”

“Wait, you can talk to animals, too, Cole?” Nehn asked.

“Not really. I’m just pretty sure that’s what happened,” Cole answered and then reached out for Nehn’s rear. “I could rub it for you,” he offered.

“That’s okay, Cole. I’ve got it covered,” Nehn said sidestepping his hands and then sending some healing energies toward her posterior.

“Yeah, Cole, there’s a long line that’s formed to grab that ass. You’ll have to wait with the rest of us,” Bull joked.

“Where’s the line, and why do other people want to touch her bottom? Do they want to make it feel better, too?” Cole questioned innocently.

Nehn giggled but didn’t snort. She didn’t want to scare her horse again. Cassandra made a disgusted noise and said something about juvenile behavior. Varric segued, “Speaking of asses, when was Solas due to catch up with us?”

Nehn stopped laughing. “He didn’t give a specific time. He just said he’d meet us here. I’ve tried finding him in the Fade, but I can’t. It has me worried, but I keep telling myself that he managed on his own for years.”

That week the team worked their way past the first camp, fighting rifts and encountering remains that made it seem like some travelers in the area had been herded, tortured, and killed by people associated with Corypheus. They also found a strange temple where time had seemingly stood still. Nehn had gotten a particularly powerful staff as well as a bad injury to her left flank in a fight that ensued there. They rested for a few days to allow her to heal before trying again to locate Stroud and Hawke. 

The Warden Commander and Champion proved elusive at first, and Nehn’s team cleared several more rifts, established two new camps, and even captured an entire keep from the Venatori while trying to find them. With Cullen’s blessing, Nehn placed Rylen in charge of the newly acquired Griffon Wing Keep and started some of the Inquisition’s soldiers on making improvements to the area’s infrastructure. In the end, Stroud and Hawke found the Inquisitor and her party at the fortress. To Nehn and Varric’s delight, Hawke had brought another companion with him, his love Merrill.

“Daisy, what are you doing out in this wasteland?” Varric asked giving her a warm hug.

“Why are you asking me Varric? You’re the one that told me where I could find Hawke,” Merrill said with her typical naivety.

“I wondered how she knew just where to look,” Hawke said while glaring at Varric. “I told her that we didn’t need her help, but I can’t get her to go back to the Free Marches.”

“I go where you go, ma vhenan,” Merrill declared and then spoke to Nehn. “When I heard what happened to you at the Conclave, I couldn’t believe it. We’ve met before. I’m Merrill. Do you remember?”

“How could I forget it? I was miserably sick, and you were so kind, Merrill.”

“Were you expecting? You weren’t sure at the time,” Merrill said.

“Yes, I had a little girl - Asha. She’s nine now and a mage.”

“Oohh, she’ll be your First one day. I’m a bit envious,” Merrill admitted.

“My clan has disavowed me as First. My family isn’t fully exiled, but we’re not welcome either.”

Merrill’s face fell. She understood Nehn’s heartbreak at losing her clan. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry. Did your Keeper explain why?”

“Keeper Deshanna is concerned that I won’t leave the Inquisition and return to the clan when the war ends. She also thought that I was sleeping with a human. From the way she reacted to the rumor, you’d think I’d taken the Dread Wolf to my bed.”

“The Dalish are not forgiving of those that take human lovers. But some are worth the cost,” Merrill said while staring at Hawke adoringly.

“The sad truth is I had no lovers at the time - human or otherwise. People misconstrued my friendship with Dorian, and one of the chantry mothers at Skyhold fanned the flames of that gossip. Somehow it reached Deshanna’s ears. She never even gave me the opportunity to refute it.”

“Maybe she’ll come around,” Merrill encouraged.

Nehn smiled weakly and shook her head. “It’s okay. My children are doing well with the Inquisition, and I can teach them our history and religion. It isn’t the same as living with your lethallin, but we will endure.”

Glancing down, Nehn spied Merrill’s hands and saw they were criss crossed with tiny scars as well as a few fresh wounds. _She’s so sweet and innocent it’s easy to forget that she is also a blood mage._ Nehn was uncomfortable with blood magic although she knew Solas held no such reservations even though he wasn’t a practitioner himself. It seemed too risky to Nehn. The temptation to use others for blood sacrifice was too great for most to resist. Merrill didn’t seem to have fallen into that trap - yet. Nehn realized that the Inquisition’s templars wouldn’t be willing to risk having a blood mage in their presence and would likely kill one on sight.

Nehn pulled Merrill aside under the pretense of showing her the elven glyphs she’d found in the Exalted Plains and then handed her a pair of gloves. “I know it’s hot, but you’ve got to cover your hands. If the templars see them...”

Merrill protested, “Blood magic is just like any other magic. It can be used for good or ill. It is fear that leads people astray.”

“You sound like Solas. I understand your point, but the templars won’t try. They’ll react on training and instinct. Please, lethallan,” Nehn urged.

Merrill slipped on the gloves, “Who is this one named ‘Pride’ that agrees with me about magic?”

“One of my companions. I haven’t seen or heard from him in weeks,” Nehn explained and then rubbed her head feeling another headache building. “One of his friends passed, and he left to mourn. He promised he’d return, but I’m becoming doubtful he will.” Nehn felt waves of anxiety roll over her at the thought of Solas alone and grieving. She berated herself mentally for letting him go.

“I see, and this Solas - he’s more than just a companion to you?” 

“He’s... well... it’s complicated,” Nehn said unsure of what Solas was to her exactly. Mentor? Friend? Lover? None of the descriptors fit properly and his continued absence made her unsure if any had ever truly applied. She only knew that she was scared for him and wanted to know he was safe. Merrill didn’t press Nehn further, and both returned to the group to discuss the wardens.

Hawke and Stroud described how wardens had been spotted coming and going from a Tevinter ritual tower near Griffon Wing Keep. “If the pattern holds, they’ll be back in two days. We can confront them then,” Hawke suggested.

“Best to get it over with,” Nehn sighed. “How far is this tower?”

“Less than half a day’s ride from here,” Stroud said and then marked the location on Nehn’s map. “Hawke and I will leave now and watch for their approach. We’ll send a raven when we see them coming. Then we can meet up and hopefully put an end to this nonsense.”

Nehn agreed with their plan and then encouraged Hawke to leave Merrill behind. “If they’re involved in blood magic, I think it would be especially dangerous for her to be present.”

“I never wanted Merrill here to begin with. I’ll try my best to convince her to stay away. You’ve seen how successful I’ve been so far, though,” Hawke answered.

***********************

When Nehn went to sleep that night, she didn’t search for Solas. He either couldn’t or didn’t want to be found, and she was exhausted from trying. She instead let her mind wander enjoying dreaming as she had before becoming a fade walker. Nehn was startled when she felt pulled away from her aimless dreaming to a specific place in the Fade, but her fears turned to relief when she saw Solas awaiting her arrival. Then she got angry.

“Where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? I’ve searched for you for weeks,” Nehn yelled.

Solas looked hurt. “I’m sorry, da’len. I needed time ... alone.”

“How was I to know that you hadn’t been possessed or killed? You could have sent a raven. You could have talked to me for a few minutes in the Fade to reassure me,” Nehn railed.

“You’re right. I wasn’t thinking how you might take my absence. Forgive me.”

Nehn was so glad that he wasn’t dead or worse that she couldn’t maintain her rage. “Are you alright?” she questioned.

“It hurts. Losing someone always does, but I will survive.”

“Are you coming back?”

“You did everything you could. I could hardly abandon you now. I will be there soon.”

“Solas, the next time you need to mourn, you don’t have to do it alone.”

Solas looked down as if assessing his feelings. “It’s been so long since I could trust someone.” He then looked at Nehn. “I’ll work on it, and thank you.”

Nehn woke up from her dream and thanked the gods that Solas was alive and whole. Then she started cursing him for being a self-centered prick. Garel had always been conscientious and caring. He knew that she was anxious by nature and never left without telling her where he was going and when he’d return. Solas, on the other hand, took off for weeks, ignored her attempts to contact him, and then popped back into her life when he chose. 

They would need to discuss his manners when he returned Nehn concluded. If his idea of her being patient was to accept being left without explanation, then she would either disavow him of that notion or end the relationship. Games in the bedroom were fine, but she was not going to put up with them elsewhere.


	45. Chapter 45

Nehn was at the top of Griffon Wing Keep dangling her legs off the battlements and watching the sunrise. She couldn’t fall back to sleep after her conversation with Solas and had spent the night catching up with correspondence and authorizing Inquisition activities. She wouldn’t admit it to them, but she was missing the drawn out discussions with her advisors that happened in the war room. When she was making the decisions from a distance without listening to their arguments, she grew anxious about making the wrong call. There was something about hearing them speak and watching their body language that made Nehn’s choices more clear.

Nehn said her prayers, meditated, and then cast her morning combination of calming and healing auras on herself before swinging her legs around and sliding off the battlements to the top floor of the keep. She stopped at the alchemy table, wrote a list of potions she would need, and left it for someone else to prepare. The last time she’d dealt with all the herbs required for potion making she had developed a rash that lasted a week.

Feeling peckish, she descended the stairs to see if the cook had breakfast ready. Her heart flew to her throat when she saw Solas at the front gate trying to persuade a new guard to let him in. Nehn raced down the steps and told the guard to admit him. Solas looked relieved for her intervention and waited for the iron gate to rise.

Not caring that the guard would see them, Nehn threw her arms around Solas and kissed him. Then she dropped her arms and began to tear into him for being inconsiderate.

“Perhaps we could discuss this somewhere privately?” Solas suggested evenly.

Nehn was still bubbling with emotions, but she agreed and walked Solas to her room.

“I didn’t expect that you would still be upset,” he said.

“What do you mean? Of course I’m still upset. I thought you’d died. You’ve lectured me for being rude for waking you up. What do you call leaving your girlfriend for over a month without telling her where you’d be, how to contact you, and when or if you’d be back?”

“So you’re my girlfriend now?” he questioned with a small smile.

“Oh no you don’t... you’re not avoiding the real conversation here. I’m your something - your student, your boss, your friend, your girlfriend- whatever you want to call it, and you owe me an explanation and an apology,” Nehn said with a quivering voice.

“It has been many years since anyone cared where I went or what I did. I simply didn’t consider how you would be affected. It was rude, and I apologize,” he said with a distinct twinkle to his eyes.

“Do you think this is funny? Because I’m serious, Solas. If you want whatever this is between us to continue, then you’re going to have to think about someone besides yourself.”

“No, I understand completely. But I want you to know I do think about you. You captivate me. You’re unexpected and passionate. You catch me off guard with your honesty and understanding of this world. You have wisdom and compassion that I haven’t seen since... some of my deepest journeys into ancient memories in the Fade.”

Nehn was completely flustered with him by that point. “What does that even mean, Solas?” she asked while throwing her hands in the air and turning away.

He took her arm gently and turned her around. “It means that I’m sorry. It means that even though it would be kinder in the long run to walk away now, I can’t. Losing you would...” He stopped speaking and kissed her with an intensity he never had before. Letting her go, he looked her directly in the eyes and said, “Ar lath ma, vhenan,” before turning and walking away.

Nehn stood speechless in the middle of her room. Solas had just told her that he loved her and called her his heart. She didn’t know what to think, and he’d left before she could say anything. Acting on instinct, she raced out the door after him and called out as he walked down the hall. “You don’t say something like that and leave. You say something like that and stay.”

He stopped and then walked back to her sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure how you’d...”

Before he could finish his sentence, she’d started kissing him and guiding him back to her bedroom. Closing and locking the door without breaking contact, Nehn pulled him toward the bed. When they’d gotten halfway across the room, he tried to speak again. She stopped kissing him annoyed at the prospect of talking when all she wanted to do was make love. 

“I don’t know if this is wise,” he hesitated.

“Solas, why do you always do this? What aren’t you telling me? I enjoy some games, but not this type. Please just tell me what’s going on,” Nehn begged.

Solas considered telling her the full truth in that moment, but he felt sure he would lose her and maybe jeopardize the Inquisition. Rather than risk that, he pressed his lips together, looked down for a moment while he thought of a reasonable excuse, and then spoke. “I don’t want to make love to you while you still wear the ring bonding you to Garel. It isn’t right.”

Nehn looked at her left hand. She’d only taken the ring off once when she was convinced that she would die in Haven and wanted Falon to have something to give to his vhenan someday. Her breath shuddered as she slipped the ring off her finger. Some part of her felt like she was betraying her first love, but she couldn’t keep clinging to him when he was gone. She unclasped the necklace her children had given her and threaded the ring on it.

“The clasp is tricky. Could you refasten it?” she asked while turning around and holding up her hair. 

Solas managed the clasp with little difficulty and began kissing Nehn’s neck. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to get lost in the feeling of his arms around her and his lips against her. She turned toward him and soaked in the sensation of kissing him. In that moment, she realized she could learn to love someone other than Garel because she already did. “Ar lath ma, Solas,” she whispered as she let him guide her toward the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song for this chapter - "Just Give Me A Reason" by Pink featuring Nate Ruess
> 
> So yeah, Nehn falls for Solas right after he lies to her. To modify a Godfather quote, "Just when you think she got out, he pulls her back in."


	46. Chapter 46

Nehn was still luxuriating in the afterglow of declaring and making love to Solas when there was a sharp rap on her door. After patting his chest, she slid out of bed and wrapped a robe around her. She cracked the door open and saw a young soldier. 

“Sorry to wake you, ma’am. We’ve received a raven from the Warden Commander and the Champion,” he explained while passing Nehn a small piece of parchment. “The wardens are arriving at the ritual tower earlier than expected.”

“Tell my team that we’ll leave for the tower within the hour, but don’t inform Merrill,” Nehn ordered. “Thank you. That will be all.” Closing the door, she spoke to Solas, “Did you hear?”

“Yes, vhenan,” he answered while putting on his clothes.

The short ride to the ritual tower was somber. No one wanted to believe that the wardens were turning to large scale usage of blood magic. They were the true heroes of Thedas - a bulwark against the Blight. Surely, they wouldn’t follow such a foolish course and allow themselves to be used so easily.

When they rendezvoused with Hawke and Stroud, Nehn directed half of her party to stay at the tower’s entrance to ensure they wouldn’t be flanked. She had carefully considered who should go inside the tower and opted to take Hawke, Stroud, Solas, Cassandra, Dorian, and Varric. Once they went through the tower’s gates, Nehn smelled the coppery scent of blood and the sickening stench of death. The wardens were without a doubt making blood sacrifices. The only remaining questions were who they were killing and why.

The answers she found were awful. The wardens were killing their own to summon and bind demons in hopes of creating an army able to defeat darkspawn and the Blight.. A side effect of the binding was that the warden mages who performed the ritual were in turn bound to Corypheus. Nehn had discovered how Corypheus was building the demon army that she’d seen in the alternate future in Redcliffe. The wardens had to be stopped.

A battle ensued, and all the wardens and demons at the tower were killed. Corypheus’ agent, a Venatori named Erimond, was able to elude capture. Stroud noticed the direction in which Erimond fled and surmised that he was headed to an old warden fortress named Adamant. When Nehn and her group returned to Griffon Wing Keep, Hawke and Stroud volunteered to scout Adamant and report back. Nehn was certain they’d find the remainder of the missing wardens there and hoped that few demons were with them. Whatever the case, Nehn knew she needed her forces out west as quickly as possible.

Cullen had been following Nehn’s advice about streaming small contingents of his men through Orlais to the Western Apporach. Roughly a quarter were already at Griffon Wing Keep or elsewhere in the Approach already. Half were scattered throughout the Exalted Plains helping to maintain stability. The remainder were to stay at Skyhold regardless. When Nehn let the raven fly to alert her advisors, she knew Cullen would be prepared to act quickly. They had already set the pieces in place for the endgame. He had only needed to know where to attack.

Hawke and Stroud returned to Griffon Wing Keep within a few days and substantiated the warden presence at Adamant. Nehn sent word of their confirmation to Skyhold. A few days later ravens arrived with news that the Inquisition’s forces and its Commander were headed to Griffon Wing Keep to stage their attack against the wardens.

Nehn knew it would take at least three weeks for everyone to arrive and prepare. She opted to take the time to travel to the nearby Forbidden Oasis to find out the purpose of the odd crystal shards she’d discovered by peering through ocularia. What she found was that the shards acted as keys to doors with in an ancient temple called Solassan. She teased Solas about having his own temple and asked what it felt like to be worshipped. He was uncharacteristically sharp with his reply, so she decided not to joke about it further.

In the temple, Nehn was able to gain several protections against elemental attacks. She opted to focus on spirit and cold resistances as she had difficulty fighting terrors and despair demons who used both respectively. Nehn wished she had collected enough shards to unlock all of the temple’s doors, but she was thankful for the added protection she had gained and resolved to return when she collected more shards.

After leaving Solassan, they returned to the camp they had made at the oasis. Nehn sat near a waterfall with Solas watching the sunset and commented that she thought it was quite possibly the most beautiful place she had ever seen. She loved the contrast of the red rocks with the clear blue water - especially as the sky filled with pinks and oranges as the sun went down. She rested her head against Solas’ chest (careful to avoid the wolf bone pendant) and sighed her contentment.

“And the hulking corpse of the giant over there doesn’t spoil the view for you?” Solas questioned with amusement.

“You can’t have everything,” Nehn laughed and then nuzzled closer.

Solas put both arms around her and embraced her, “You are always looking for the best in situations and people. It is admirable.”

“I’d return the compliment, but I’m pretty sure we both know that’d be a lie - or do you just play grim and fatalistic to get me into bed?”

“No, I am grim and fatalistic,” he answered. “Getting you into bed is just a very enjoyable side benefit.”

She elbowed him and faked a pout. “We’ll see if you reap any benefits tonight with that attitude.”

********************

Upon returning from the Forbidden Oasis two and a half weeks after their departure, Nehn was amazed how many soldiers and support personnel had arrived. She was tickled beyond belief when she spotted a familiar shock of wavy blond hair in the crowd of soldiers. Forgetting propriety, she raced across the camp outside of Griffon Wing Keep and nearly tackled Cullen with a hug.

“Careful, watch where you’re going,” Cullen growled before realizing who had grabbed him. Turning to see Nehn beaming beside him, he quickly changed his tune. “Inquisitor, I didn’t expect you back for a few more days. We’re nearly ready. As soon as the siege equipment arrives from Velun, we’re set to attack.”

“It’s always about business with you. I’m more interested in how you’ve been, Cullen,” Nehn said while dragging him away from his men. “Have you been following my order about taking care of yourself?”

“I, well... no, not really,” Cullen admitted.

“Insubordination! What’s the penalty for that?” Nehn teased.

Cullen missed her jest and grabbed the back of his neck as he began to recite Inquisition rules and regulations.

“Mythal bless you, you’re being too literal, Cullen. I was joking.”

Cullen sighed with relief, “Good because I was a little concerned. What about you? You look well. How have you been?”

“Good. Very good. I like it here.”

“You like the desert? Isn’t it a bit bleak?”

“No, it’s beautiful. You can see for miles. It’s warm, and it hardly ever rains. An absolute paradise by my estimation - if you discount the varghasts, sulfur pits, and darkspawn that is.” 

Nehn and Cullen continued talking and catching up on Inquisition matters when Bull noticed them together. “Hey, Vint, did you tell Cullen about Solas and the Boss?”

“No, I didn’t quite know how to write that letter. I thought I’d tell him in person if needed,” Dorian answered. “Why?”

Bull pointed to where Nehn stood speaking animatedly with her obviously enamored Commander.

Varric had heard them talking and joined in. “I didn’t have the heart to tell Curly either. Sassy’s just being her normal friendly self because she’s clueless. One of us is going to have to say something to him when she leaves.”

“Looks like we won’t have to,” Bull said and nodded to where Solas was moving slowly with his hands clasped behind his back toward Nehn and Cullen.

“It’s like wandering by the infirmary. You know you’re likely to see something ghastly, but you have to venture a peek regardless,” Dorian exclaimed.

Solas stopped beside Nehn and greeted Cullen. Then he put his arm around Nehn’s back. Reflexively, she wrapped an arm about his waist as she continued to talk to Cullen. Cullen’s face registered a quick range of emotions from confusion to realization to embarrassment before becoming stoically professional. Shortly afterword, Cullen bowed and excused himself from the conversation before stalking away with clenched fists.

“Well, shit,” Varric cursed.

“That hurt to watch,” Dorian said.

“Wouldn’t want to be the men he’s about to put through training,” Bull commented. “Still it could have been worse. It’s not like he walked in on them having sex.”

“You know I can’t stomach the images that sentence conjured, Bull,” Dorian said queasily.

“Can’t disagree with you there, Sparkler,” Varric said while pulling out his flask. 

*****************

Nehn met with Cullen and Leliana the next day to review strategies for their attack. Josephine had stayed behind at Skyhold. Leliana had obtained numerous maps of Adamant and along with Cullen pointed out choke points and vulnerabilities. Cullen noted that the fortress’ age worked to their advantage as it hadn’t been constructed to withstand siege equipment. He showed where he would be using trebuchets to weaken the fortress walls then said a battering ram would be used to break through the main gate to allow the Inquisitor and their soldiers entry.

“Those that are manning the battering ram and first scaling the walls are likely to perish,” Nehn said as she processed the plan.

“Everyone in the forward positions are volunteers, Inquisitor. You should know we had to use a lottery system to determine who would serve so many were willing,” Cullen replied.

Nehn pressed her lips together moved by the dedication their forces showed to their cause. Her hand ran over a list of names arranged by battalions of those that would be at the battle, and she silently prayed Mythal’s protection over them and Elgar’Nan’s vengeance upon their enemies. When she came to one name, her hand stopped, and she looked at Cullen with wide-eyed horror.

“Why is Falon listed?” she asked hoping his name was accidentally included.

“He volunteered.”

“You brought my son here?” Nehn’s voice crescendoed.

“I brought many mothers’ sons and daughters here, Inquisitor. That is what you asked for when you requested our army to march,” Cullen said evenly.

Nehn struggled to maintain her composure. The air took on the distinct smell of ozone as she worked to contain her magic. She held up her hand and said, “I need some time. We’ll reconvene in an hour.” She didn’t so much as glance behind her as she walked out of the keep in a blind fury. 

When she reached the encampment that surrounded the keep, she stopped one of the soldiers and asked, “Where is Killeen’s battalion?” 

“I’ll take you there, Inquisitor,” the soldier said and began to walk eastward. Nehn followed behind him, nodding at soldiers as she passed, and trying to mask her emotions. Finally, they reached the circle of tents belonging to Killeen’s people. Nehn thanked the soldier and walked toward her son who was chatting with some other soldiers with his back to her. 

“Falon Souveri Lavellan,” Nehn called out with her arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

Falon froze and then turned around slowly to face his mother. Standing up, he saluted her and said, “Inquisitor.”

She didn’t return his salute instead gestured for him to follow her. He trailed behind her as she walked through camp and into the keep without speaking. She took several turns and stairways before opening a door and saying, “Stay. I’ll deal with you once I’ve calmed down.”

Solas looked up from the book he was reviewing and said, “Falon, I’m surprised to see you here. Have your sisters made the journey as well?”

“They’d better not have,” Nehn said as her eyes flashed with anger.

“They’re at Skyhold, Inquisitor,” Falon said looking at the ground.

“If you call me that again when we aren’t in public, I won’t be responsible for what I do. I will be back when I’ve finished my meeting,” Nehn snarled and then slammed the door behind her.

Solas bookmarked his page and closed the tome he had been studying. “So I assume she didn’t expect your arrival.”

“No, I told Sylvia not to write her,” Falon admitted.

“Did Commander Cullen insist that you come?” 

“No, he wanted to leave me behind, but my direct commanding officer convinced him that I should be allowed to come.”

“Why are you in such a rush to see battle, lethallin?” Solas asked with concern.

“It’s not about wanting to see battle. I want to help the injured. These are my friends and comrades that will be fighting not to mention my mother...” Falon explained before his voice started to crack with emotion. 

Solas nodded, folded his hands thoughtfully, and sat silent for a minute. “She is angry because she is scared of losing you. There isn’t anything or anyone that she loves more than you and your sisters.”

Falon looked down at his hands. “I can’t sit idle while my friends die.”

“Action is not always inherently preferable to inaction,” Solas said. “However, it seems that you are taking a calculated risk that is likely to prove beneficial. Convincing your mother of that may prove difficult, however.”

In the meantime, Nehn had returned to the council chambers. Leliana was present, but Cullen had yet to make it back.

“Did you go to find Falon?” Leliana asked.

“Yes.”

“And will you allow him to participate in the battle?”

Nehn gave Leliana a scathing look and went back to reading reports.

“Cullen didn’t want to bring Falon. He knew you wouldn’t approve. At the same time, he couldn’t show favoritism.”

“Are you justifying Cullen’s actions to me?”

“I’m explaining them, Inquisitor. Your son was exceptionally persistent about coming. He is as stubborn and determined as his mother.”

Nehn didn’t reply, but her hands shook in anger.

Cullen returned looking irritated. “Inquisitor, you cannot remove a soldier from his post without notifying his commanding officer.”

“Am I the head of the Inquisition or are you?” Nehn snipped.

“You are. However, I am in charge of your armies. You are expected to follow protocols even when your son is involved - especially when your son is involved.” Cullen responded pounding on the table for emphasis.

“And you promised to keep me informed about him” Nehn yelled. “Where was the letter notifying me he had the daft idea to go play hero?

“If he were wanting to be a hero, he’d have put his name in as an archer. He’s talented enough that he could. What he wants to be is a help. Perhaps it’s the years spent assisting you, but he is very useful to our healers and medics. I couldn’t reasonably turn down his aide when casualties will likely be high,” Cullen explained. 

Nehn understood his reasoning and were it anyone but her child she might have agreed. As it stood, she suggested they table the discussion of Falon and resume talking about the planned siege. They reviewed plans and contingencies for several hours before Nehn felt comfortable with them and ended the meeting.

Cullen stayed after to speak with her. “Nehn, I’m sorry I didn’t write about Falon. I mistakenly assumed that Sylvia would have told you. I still stand by my decision to bring him.”

Nehn sighed. “I know, Cullen. I’ll speak with him, and then send him back to his squad.” Nehn rested her elbows on the table and put her head between her hands. _When does being a mother get easy? I thought it was going to get simpler the older they got. Now I wish they were still small enough that I could pick them up and carry them away from danger._

Cullen stood silent and then asked the question that had been on his mind since the day before. “How long have you... I mean... are you with Solas - romantically that is?”

Nehn straightened up, surprised by Cullen’s question. “We’ve been together since Sylvia’s wedding. Varric told me I needed to write you, but I didn’t think you’d care. I mean... never mind.”

“I do care about what happens to you, but I respect your privacy as well. I’ll leave you be, Inquisitor,” Cullen said and then moved swiftly out of the room.


	47. Chapter 47

After Cullen had left, Nehn sunk to her knees in front of the makeshift war table. Even if Falon wasn’t hers by blood, he was her son, and the thought of him experiencing war was almost too much for Nehn to bear. She knew he was unlikely to be physically injured staying back with the healers but what of his psyche? The things he would see...

She took a shuddering breath and began to pray aloud and in earnest for her son, for her friends, for herself, and for the Inquisition. Even though Solas asserted the Creators couldn’t hear her, she had to believe that they could. Someone had to be listening. Putting her hands over her face, she pleaded for their intercession, their guidance... anything so she would know she and the Inquisition weren’t alone.

Nehn was so absorbed in her prayers that she didn’t hear the door open. Solas came into the room silently, his heart leaden as he heard Nehn praying in the broken elven used by the Dalish. Her faith was so misguided and yet so pure. She was begging for help, wisdom, and protection with unrestrained sincerity. Her heart and soul were laid bare for gods that would never hear her.

“Vhenan, I was concerned when you hadn’t returned,” Solas said while sitting down beside her and placing a hand on her back. 

She looked over at him her face care worn and tear stained. “What if you’re right and the only god that can hear me is the one that brought the People to our knees? Do I bargain with the Dread Wolf? His assistance never comes without great cost.”

Solas wanted to laugh at the irony of her question, but it also saddened him. To her, he was a monster to be feared, a trickster that would turn every deal to his favor, and the cause of the elves downfall. He loved her with every fiber of his being, but he couldn’t reveal himself to her. She loved the man Solas but feared the god Fen’Harel. Perhaps this was part of his penance for the choices he’d made - to love a mortal that could never truly know him.

He kept his face calm. She was in enough anguish without seeing his torment. “Vhenan, you don’t need the Creator’s help. You have what you need within the Inquisition and yourself. You will succeed. Believe it.”

Nehn put her head against his chest and sobbed. “So many people depend on me. I can’t let them down. When I leave this room, I’ll have to pretend I have full confidence in myself when I have almost none. How can I lie to them like that?”

“Some lies are kindnesses, vhenan,” Solas said and kissed the top of her head. “Things are never black and white. You will project confidence, so your soldiers can reflect it in battle. If your feigning courage gives them the real thing, is it wrong to do so? Our choices are never simple, but our path is clear. We must do what it takes to assure victory.”

Nehn stopped crying and wiped her face with her sleeve. “Dorian is going to be pissed.”

“Why, vhenan?”

“I just broke an over two month long tear-free streak,” Nehn said. “Quite spectacularly - that will please him at least. He has an appreciation for the dramatic.”

Nehn and Solas returned to their room. Solas excused himself while Nehn spent time talking with Falon. After scolding him for being deceitful, she praised Falon for his selflessness and resolve. Nehn hugged him and gave him her blessing to stay after admitting she would prefer to send him back to Skyhold. “You truly are your father’s son,” she said giving him the highest compliment she could imagine before escorting him back to his squad.

When she returned to her room, Solas was sitting on the bed reviewing ancient treatises on magic and trying to determine if there was any way to reverse the binding Corypheus had on the warden mages. Nehn said nothing but crawled into his lap utterly exhausted from the day’s events. Resting her head on his shoulder, she fell asleep as he gently rocked her in his arms.

*********************  
The next few days were full of frenzied activity as the Inquisition readied for the battle at Adamant. Nehn spent time with the troops projecting confidence and courage as she walked among them. Much to Falon’s chagrin, Nehn always snuck by to see him. Still very much the teenager, he both loved and resented her attentions - especially when she insisted on hugging him in front of the other soldiers. Outside of rallying her troops and consulting her advisors, Nehn trained with Helaine honing her spectral sword skills and learning new spells that might make the difference in battle. She came to bed completely spent at the end of each day thankful that Solas was content to simply hold her as she slept.

The Inquisition’s armies moved just out of sight of Adamant’s walls and set up camp. Under the cover of darkness, Cullen’s engineers would move trebuchets and battering rams close to the fortress, and the attack itself would begin at dawn. With nothing more to do than wait, Nehn took Solas’ hand and whispered, “I’d ask for a walk in the woods, but there aren’t any. Perhaps we could take a stroll through the sands instead?”

“You are incorrigible,” he sighed but grabbed his staff and rucksack with a smile.

They walked hand in hand away from camp until they noticed a monument to one of the wardens of the second blight. “It isn’t quite a copse of trees in a glade, but it will do,” Nehn announced while pulling him toward the structure which had a stone foundation ringed with granite pillars.

“It is a bit exposed,” Solas cautioned.

“We’re in the middle of the desert in the dark of night. Only the stars will be watching,” Nehn retorted.

“I will set some wards to be safe,” Solas said and proceeded to walk around the monument making complicated gestures and whispering in the odd elven dialect he used when he thought Nehn wasn’t listening. She made a pallet for them on the stone and slipped out of her armor and leathers leaving only her smalls remaining. Nehn then unfastened the hair pins and ribbons that held her hair in a complicated braid and then ran her hands through her hair shaking it free.

“Vhenan, starlight suits you,” Solas said while gliding toward her.

“Is that you admitting your approval of this location?”

“It is me admitting I enjoy the view,” he said while pulling off his tunic and undershirt in one smooth motion. Tossing them aside, his wolf bone necklace clattered against the stones as he dropped to his knees in front of Nehn.

She ran her hands along his arms and chest tracing the outlines of his lean muscles with her fingers. Glancing at his eyes and then returning her gaze to his chest, Nehn asked, “That dialect you speak in sometimes ... where is that from? I know its elven, but I can only understand some of the words.”

Solas, who had been caressing her back, froze for a moment before resuming his gentle touches. “It is my native tongue. I grew up in a village far to the north,” he said truthfully while avoiding admitting it was a form of elven unused for a millennia.

“It’s very beautiful. Melodic even. Maybe you could teach it to me someday,” Nehn said while kissing his chest.

“Perhaps,” he replied while tilting her chin up and then kissing her on the lips while encouraging her to lay back.

His hand brushed the ticklish spot on her side, and she started to giggle.

“You’d think you’d remember where that spot is by now,” she gasped.

“Perhaps I do, and I enjoy hearing your laughter,” he said while intentionally touching it again.

She burst into another chorus of giggles and then calmed herself. Running her hands along the sides of his face, she said, “I love you, Solas.”

“Ar lath ma, vhenan,” he whispered. “You mean more to me than I could ever describe.”

“Then don’t use words. Show me, vhenan.”

Taking her in his arms, he made love to her slowly and sweetly occasionally interrupting their kissing and touching with short phrases in his native tongue that spoke of his love. He would say them carefully, punctuating them with kisses and then translate them for her while gliding his hands over her body and electrifying her senses with magic. She felt adored and alive as she stared at the stars as he moved over her. She almost didn’t care that she knew he was lying to her about his changing accent. Surely, he wasn’t deceiving her about what he felt.


	48. Chapter 48

The battle for Adamant was pitched. Nehn was able to convince many of the warrior and rogue wardens to lay down their arms, but nearly all of the warden mages refused to surrender. Nehn and her companions might have been thrown by the demons the mages summoned and bound to their will, but she had already fought so many that came out of rifts that they felt like just another type of enemy. 

Everything seemed to be pointed in the Inquisition’s favor, until Corypheus’ dragon appeared. The dragon rampaged along the battlements killing everything in its wake. Warden Commander Clarel, having finally realized her error in trusting Erimond, tried to distract and draw the dragon away from the Inquisition’s soldiers. Nehn, Hawke, Stroud, and some of her inner circle gave chase and were high atop the fortress when the dragon turned mid-air, careening toward them. Clarel drove her staff into the dragon’s belly while reciting the warden’s oath with her last breaths, but the weight of the dragon on the weakened fortress walls caused a collapse that sent Nehn and her party hurtling toward the ground.

Somehow Nehn opened a rift and found herself once again physically inside the Fade. Solas was fascinated and excited to be in the Fade physically although he wished Nehn had brought them to a more desirable location. Dorian took the development in stride while Iron Bull was furious that demons had once again screwed things up. Stroud was level-headed, approaching the Fade as if it were just some Deep Road maze to be navigated, while Hawke began spewing sarcastic comments and spinning his daggers nervously. For her part, Nehn was aggravated that everything in the Fade was humid and moist. Gods, she hated being wet.

Stroud suggested that they try to reach a nearby rift in an attempt to escape. It seemed as a reasonable solution as any to Nehn, so they worked their way toward that goal battling demons and personified fears (which to Nehn appeared as spiders which served to only piss her off more). They learned that they were trapped in a part of the fade controlled by a huge demon that fed on people’s nightmares and fears. While there, an apparition resembling Divine Justinia guided them and helped Nehn regain her memories of what had occurred at the Temple of Sacred Ashes when she first gained the mark.

Along the way, the nightmare demon spoke to them and taunted them with their greatest fears. It threatened Bull with possession and accused Dorian of being just like his father. The nightmare told Stroud that he was responsible for the warden’s downfall and Hawke that everyone he ever cared for would die because of him. Then the nightmare turned its attention to Nehn calling her a little girl incapable of standing on her own. As they had nearly made it to the rift, the nightmare spoke to Solas. “Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ena mar din.” Nehn’s blood ran cold at the word “harellan” which meant trickster. What victory was the nightmare saying had been empty? How would his pride bring death?

Solas responded forcefully, “Banal nadas.” _Nothing is inevitable._ , but Nehn’s trust in him was shaken. If they got out of the Fade alive, she’d need him to explain what the nightmare meant. Perhaps the nightmare was just twisting Solas’ thoughts, perhaps he wasn’t a liar. _You already know he is. How many times do you have to catch him in half truths before you believe your instincts?_ she thought.

They finally made their way to the rift and battled an aspect of the nightmare’s being. Bull, Dorian, and Solas jumped through the rift, but the larger portion of the nightmare prepared to attack Nehn, Hawke, and Stroud. Both Hawke and Stroud offered to stay behind to hold off the demon for the others to escape. Nehn looked at them like they were both insane, grabbed their arms tightly, and fade-stepped through the rift with both of them dragging behind her.

“Don’t be in such a rush to die. You’re both needed,” she shouted as she threw her marked hand in the air killing the remaining demons in Adamant’s courtyard and sealing the rift leading from nightmare’s lair. The Inquisition forces cheered Nehn’s reappearance and their victory as did the wardens who remained.

Nehn knew she needed to address the wardens and her soldiers, but she hated making speeches. She didn’t have a strong, commanding voice like Cullen’s, or Josephine’s ability to tactfully tell people off. Not to mention that she was so short that she couldn’t see past the first ring of people surrounding her. She turned to Bull and asked him to lift her up onto a wall, so she could view her audience and hopefully have her voice carry over them. He gladly complied lifting her high into the air as if she were weightless and gently depositing her on a bulwark.

“Well, that was something,” she said which caused people to laugh at her understatement. “I’m proud of how the Inquisition stood for Thedas today. I celebrate this victory knowing this is but one battle out of many that we will face and win.” The crowd began cheering. She settled them by holding up her hands and continued. 

“This victory, however, came at great cost. We will not forget those who gave their all so that we might succeed. Let us make sure not to squander their sacrifices. To that end, I must ask that the wardens leave southern Thedas until Corypheus is defeated. You are vulnerable to his control, and you represent an unnecessary risk to the people of Ferelden and Orlais. When he is defeated, know that you will be welcomed again as the heroes that you have proven to be in ages past. I ask that Warden Commander Stroud lead you to your headquarters at Weisshaupt for you to rebuild and regroup.”

People were still staring at Nehn. “That’s really all I had to say, so yeah...” she added before jumping down from the bulwark.

“Great speech, Sassy. The end and the beginning could use a little polishing, but overall very good,” Varric commented while clapping her on the back.

“I hate public speaking,” she whispered to Varric as she plastered a fake smile on her face while walking through the now cheering crowd.

“I almost couldn’t tell,” he teased back.

Leliana and Cullen waved at Nehn for her to stop, but she had more important matters to attend. She beelined out of Adamant and across the battlefield to where a temporary infirmary had been established. She smiled when she saw Falon busy helping triage soldiers but didn’t bother him. Nehn stripped off her armor, rinsed as much gore and demon ichor off her as she could, and set to work healing her soldiers. She lost count of how many vials of lyrium she drank as she worked through the night and continued spellcasting until she could barely stand. Falon finally went over to his mother and said, “You used to always tell me when it was time for bed. Now I’m telling you.”

She was too exhausted to argue, so she leaned on Falon as he guided her through the Inquisition camp. Bull spotted them and rushed over. “You look like hell, Boss,” he said as he scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. “Falon, you almost look as rough as your mom. Go get some rest, kid. We’ll take care of her.”

“Let me down,” Nehn protested while Bull stalked away.

“No can do, Boss. You’re in no shape to make any decisions.”

“I’m fine,” Nehn said and tried to wiggle free.

“You almost made me drop you. Hold still,” Bull smacked her on the butt to emphasize his point. “Damn, I’ve wanted to do that for months. Felt good.” 

“Ass,” she seethed.

“Certainly is, and a great one at that.”

********************

Nehn woke up shortly before noon the next day. Bull and Dorian had decided to put her in a regular soldier’s tent, so Cullen or Leliana couldn’t easily find her and disrupt her rest. When she emerged from the tent, the soldiers nearby looked worried. One of them gulped hard and said, “The Commander has been looking for you, ma’am. We’d really appreciate it if you made sure he didn’t know you slept here. Iron Bull promised us some mead if we kept our mouths shut, and let you rest.”

Nehn laughed, “I promise the Commander will never know...”

“I’ll never know what?” Cullen’s voice said from behind Nehn. 

Nehn scrunched her face up and thought _Well, shit._ before putting on an innocent smile and turning to greet Cullen. “Commander, I’m sure we’ve lots to discuss. Shall we?”

“How did you just happen to appear here when I walked by not two minutes ago looking for you?”

Nehn shrugged. “Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough.”

“Are you still in the leathers your wore during the battle? You’re covered in blood.”

“Most of it isn’t mine - I hope.”

“Go get cleaned up. I’ll get Leliana, and we’ll meet you at the command tent in an hour. And Inquisitor...”

“Yes?”

“I heard about what you did for our wounded. Thank you.”

“Any other healer would have done the same. I’ll see you in an hour.”

Nehn took a bucket of water to her tent and poured some into a basin. Removing her clothes, she wet a cloth and soaped it up before scrubbing her face vigorously. When she took the washcloth away from her face, it was covered with blood and ichor. _Ew, so much for taking a sponge bath._ Nehn stuck her head out of her tent and called for Dorian who looked absolutely pristine.

“I’m disgusting. How did you get clean? A wash basin isn’t going to cut it.”

“Certainly not. Don’t you know how to conjure water?”

“Ugh... I’m still really low on mana. I pushed myself last night.”

“Fine, you don’t have to beg. Get your things. We’ll go away from camp, and I’ll provide the water. I hope you appreciate how I spoil you.”

“I do, Dorian. You’re the best.”

“Of course I am.” 

Dorian guided Nehn to an outcropping of rocks. He stood on top of them, and told her to get undressed on the side facing away from camp. Then he conjured a small shower of warm water. Nehn scrubbed and shampooed until the water ran clear, and then she thanked Dorian. He briefly turned the water icy cold then laughed himself silly at Nehn’s indignant cursing.

“That one never gets old,” he said as he tossed a towel down to her.

“I should ship you back to Tevinter,” she groused while drying her hair. After donning on a lightweight linen dress, Nehn combed her hair but left it down.

“You look lovely. Wearing all white makes you look a bit like the prophet Andraste, but I’m sure you’re getting used to the comparison.”

“Crap, Dorian, did you have to say that? I don’t have time to change my clothes.”

“Tell you what, I’ll snatch a surcote to put over it. Goodbye, Andraste. Hello, tavern wench.”

“Better a whore than a bore...” Nehn said.

“Spoken like a true heretic. Does the irony of leading an army of the faithful ever get old?”

“It’s a laugh a minute, Dorian. You should try it sometime.”

“That’s okay. I prefer my hands not glow or hold the fate of the world. Thank you very much.”

Nehn shook her head and held out her glowing hand. “I tell you I can’t _give_ this thing away.” 

Cullen and Leliana were standing outside the command tent impatiently when Nehn arrived. “Nice for you to finally join us, Inquisitor,” Leliana said as she opened the tent flap. 

“Sorry, it took a bit longer to get the gore off than I expected. Demon ichor is really a devil to get out of your hair.”

Cullen snickered at Nehn’s pun.

A few minutes later, Dorian burst into the tent and tossed Nehn a blue bundle. “Your wench wear, me lady,” he said mimicking the lower class accent of a servant.

Nehn curtsied. “Thank you, good ser.”

Dorian bowed obsequiously and exited the tent.

Unfolding the bundle, Nehn slipped the surcotte over her dress and cinched it at her waist.

“Are we ready now?” Leliana asked with annoyance.

“I think so. You’ll have to forgive us. We either can joke or go rock ourselves in a corner somewhere. What we saw in the Fade...” Nehn stopped and shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Inquisitor. I didn’t think about that. Can you tell us about it?” Leliana asked much more gently.

Nehn detailed what she learned from the phantasm that appeared to be Justinia and the memories she regained of the Conclave. She also recounted how the nightmare had fed on people’s fears growing stronger than ever as the Wardens despaired from the false Calling. Nehn didn’t detail the secret insecurities she had heard revealed, or the tombstones she saw listing every one in her inner circle’s greatest fears. The information was too personal, and Nehn wished she knew none of it.

Cullen reported on casualties and plans for withdrawing his troops. Leliana discussed new intelligence they had found, and then questioned when Nehn would return to Skyhold. “Josephine is eager to begin preparing you for Celene’s ball.”

Nehn wrinkled her nose. The idea of preening and prancing for a ballroom packed with Orleasian shems while their elven servants scurried around in the shadows made her want to retch. “I’ll get there within four to six weeks. There are some things I’d like to finish here in the Approach and the Exalted Plains. In the meantime, I’ll continue to study the nobility and human customs on my own.”

Cullen had to bite his tongue when he heard Nehn mention studying the nobility. He’d once walked in on one of her “study” sessions with Sera. They had drawn caricatures of various nobles and were seeing who could shoot arrows at their genitalia most accurately. He shuddered to think what she did to study human customs, but he doubted the ambassador would approve. He didn’t care because he thought “the Great Game” so valued by Orleasians was a complicated, backstabbing mess that would be better settled with a good brawl.

With the meeting concluded, Nehn left to find Solas but couldn’t. He had evidently taken off somewhere to dream and search the Fade for information. She’d had her fill of the Fade and decided to track down Falon instead. After eating supper with her son and his squad, Nehn visited with injured soldiers and tended to some small wounds. Those with the worst injuries had already been treated or had died. Nehn then met with the men and women given the thankless task of building pyres for the dead and burning their bodies. Nehn spoke with each one of them and expressed her appreciation. It had been her job to help Deshanna prepare the dead, and she knew how the task could weigh on someone’s mind and soul.

When she finally returned to her tent, it was dark outside. Solas was at a makeshift desk writing notes about what they had witnessed in the Fade.

“You’ve been busy, vhenan,” he said as he put down his quill. “Your energy and compassion is inspiring.”

Normally, Nehn would have relished his praise, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the nightmare’s words. _Harellan_ echoed in her mind. She silently washed her face and pulled her hair back into a low ponytail before removing her surcote and dress and laying them over the back of a chair. She found a cotton sleeping shirt in a trunk and unwound her breast band with her back to Solas. After pulling the shirt over her head, she slid beneath the covers on her pallet.

“Are you alright?” he asked kneeling beside her. She shook her head and clutched her pillow tightly. “Do you want to talk about it? 

“Not tonight,” she said as her eyes brimmed with tears. “I just want to be with you tonight.”

“Very well,” Solas answered and got ready for bed. Sliding under the covers beside Nehn, he stroked her hair before kissing her gently goodnight.

“I don’t want to go to sleep. I’ve had enough of the Fade to last me a lifetime,” she said while kissing his neck and sliding on top of him.

“Nehn, you seem a bit fragile right now. Don’t you think it would be best if we talked about what’s on your mind?”

“Only if you promise that you won’t leave until we’re finished speaking.”

“Of course, vhenan. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than beside you.”

Nehn sat up and looked at Solas. She recited the nightmare’s words to him and asked him to explain.

“The nightmare knew our insecurities and tried to use them against us. Bull is no more likely to become possessed than Dorian is to become his father. And you are one of the strongest, most capable people I know. Don’t let what was said there affect you,” he said.

“You explained what the nightmare was doing. You didn’t explain the significance of his words to you,” Nehn countered.

“Do you need me to translate the elven?”

“No, I understood it. I want to know what it means. Never mind that... tell me this. Are you harellan?”

“Everyone is at one time or another, vhenan,” 

“Another evasion. Answer me simply, Solas. Have you lied to me either outright or by omission?” Nehn pressed.

“Yes.”

“Will you tell me the truth now?”

“I ... can’t, vhenan,” Solas answered with palpable regret. “I promise in time it will all be clear, but I can’t now. I’m sorry.”

“Are you an agent of Corypheus?” Nehn asked with alarm.

“No, he stands against everything I believe in.”

“I believe you - about that at least. You could have killed me in a hundred different ways if you’d wanted.”

Nehn picked at some lint on her blanket while she tried to process what had been said and what it would mean. She kissed Solas and took his hands in her own. “Whatever this secret is, I’m willing to hear it and work through it if possible. But I am unwilling to live with deceptions, Solas. Please, vhenan, trust me enough to be honest with me.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” he replied as his shoulders drooped and his eyes grew moist.

Nehn squeezed his hands and then let go of them, “Then it’s over.” She said as tears streamed down her face. He tried to wipe them away, but she pulled back. “I’ll be fine. Please just go.”

“Vhenan...” he started but didn't complete his thought. He stood and began to get dressed as Nehn sat biting her fist and avoiding looking at him. Some part of her wanted to rail against him, beat his chest, and call him a bastard. Another part was afraid that if she so much as glanced at him that she would take him back, so she sat quiet and studied her blanket as he finished dressing and gathered his things.

When he lifted the tent flap to leave, she thought about asking if he ever really loved her, but she knew she wouldn’t believe any answer he gave. Instead she simply said, “Dareth shiral, hahren.”

He stopped and replied, “I would stay with the Inquisition if you’ll allow it.”

“Thank you. Your knowledge of the Fade is unrivaled. I’ll be grateful for your continued assistance, Solas.” she answered in the coolest, most professional tone she could manage.

“It would be my honor, Inquisitor,” he said before slipping into the night.

When she was sure Solas would be gone, Nehn got up and quickly dressed. She washed her face to remove the tears and then left her tent. She traveled just a few tents down from hers and pulled the flap back just a bit. “Dorian, may I please come in?”

“Vishante kaffas, woman, what time is it? Never mind that. Come in, but I’m not wiping off my moisturizer this time. The desert air is too dehydrating.”

Nehn went inside and sat down by Dorian. She wanted to tell him everything, but it was too fresh. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Can I stay with you?”

“Of course, but if you think I’m sharing any of my face cream, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Nehn smiled and laid down falling asleep with little difficulty as Dorian babbled about the difficulty of finding a reliable supplier for Tevinter sundries when you live in the Frostbacks most of the year. 

Dorian kept talking until he saw Nehn’s breathing becoming slow and regular then he rolled over onto his side facing away from her. _If what I think happened, there’s going to be a long line forming to kick a certain hobo apostate’s ass._ he thought as he adjusted his pillow and tried to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song for this chapter "King of Sabotage" by Ferras to quote a few lyrics:  
>  _I tried to love you, but I can't. 'Cause I don't know if I can forgive you for all the stupid things you said and all your empty promises._  
>  _When life is beautiful, baby, you destroy it all. You think you don't deserve it, when everything is perfect... the original king of sabotage._  
>  Give it a listen if you want to hear a truly great break up song. www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCoWGVcAecw
> 
> So the Solasmance comes to a close. There will be a lull in the romance aspect of the story as Nehn gets her groove back with the help of her friends.
> 
> elven Dareth shiral.= traditional Dalish goodbye means "Safe journeys." literally.


	49. Chapter 49

The sounds of soldiers breaking camp roused Nehn from her sleep. She sat up slightly disoriented, and then remembered the night before. Her heart ached seeing that she’d awakened beside Dorian rather than Solas, but then she looked at her best friend - his face coated in a thick creamy lotion and a silky hot pink scarf tied around his head and started giggling. Slapping her hand over her mouth so as not to wake Dorian, she got up and slid out of the tent to do her morning ritual.

Concentrating on her prayers was hard with the racket of Cullen’s soldiers taking down tents, securing equipment, and loading supply wagons, but she managed to thank the gods for the victory at Adamant before giving up her meditations because of the noise. She cast her healing and calming auras, and then found herself eye to eye with Cole.

“You’re hurting,” he said.

“I’ll be okay, Cole. The wrong things aren’t supposed to last.”

He put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. Nehn soaked up his embrace. When he finally let go, she said, “Thank you, Cole. I needed that.”

“I know,” he said. 

“Cole, I need to ask a favor,” Nehn said.

“Yes, I will. He’s hurting, too.” 

“Sometimes I forget that you can read minds. He doesn’t have many people he can relate to. Just please...” Nehn started to cry and willed herself to stop.

“I’ll go now,” Cole said and left before Nehn could thank him.

Taking a deep breath, Nehn walked to her tent and packed up her belongings. She started to take down her tent when some of Cullen’s men ran over and said, “We’ll take care of that, Inquisitor.” 

She thanked them and then went to get in the mess line. Technically, she could skip to the front, but she liked talking with the soldiers. Bull had taught her it was important to put their faces in her mind. It kept her decisions involving the Inquisition’s armies from becoming a game of chess. She commanded real people, and she never wanted to forget that.

Nehn saw Falon, but then noticed he was talking to a particularly pretty elven soldier. She caught his eye, winked, and left the tent with her food. _He’s growing up way too fast,_ she thought while shaking her head. _Mythal’s mercy, when did he take an interest in girls?_

Scooping porridge into her mouth as she ambled back to where her inner circle camped, Nehn stopped short when she saw Solas sitting with his back to her. She considered her options and decided to get their first post-breakup conversation out of the way. _Best to just get it over with, then I won’t have to dread it,_ she reasoned.

She quickly finished her breakfast and then strode over to Solas with her head held high. “A word?” she asked quoting one of his favorite conversation starters.

His eyes warmed when he saw her and a slight smile tugged at his mouth. Nehn was indignant. The arrogant ass thought she was there to ask him to take her back. _Think again, jerk._

He stood and nodded. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to discuss your position within the Inquisition,” she said and took a small measure of delight as his face fell. Then she felt awful for being spiteful. “I think we need some time apart. I’m going to finish some business here and in the Exalted Plains, but I’d like you to return to Skyhold with Leliana. I thought you could investigate the glyphs we found in the meantime.”

“Even in this you surprise me,” he said. “I will see it done.”

Nehn was irritated by his comment about surprising him. Had she just been some predictive puzzle for him to study? It didn’t matter. He was a lying prick, and she was relieved she’d seen it before she’d gotten even more deeply involved. The nightmare had done her a favor by making her confront the truth.

“I’m going to tell our companions all at once about us this morning, so we don’t have to wait for the gossip to make the rounds. You can be there or not. It’s your choice,” she said.

“Thank you,” he replied but didn’t indicate what he’d do.

Nehn turned and headed toward the campfire. _That wasn’t so awful. You did fine,_ she thought before a fresh round of tears appeared in her eyes. She blinked them back and then asked a runner to gather her companions.

She sat by the fire and relished how watching the flames calmed her. Her companions made their way and sat down. She chatted with them, but didn’t start the real conversation until everyone arrived - Solas included. _He’s either curious what I’ll say, or he wants to be able to twist things to his advantage._

“We’ll plan our next missions once we make it back to Griffon Wing. I just wanted to make you aware of something in the meantime. Solas and I are no longer together. The reasons for that are our own. He will remain with the Inquisition but will not travel with us for a time.” 

Her announcement was met with silence and then Sera jumped up shouting, “Pay up, Varric! I told you she’d dump him before we left the Western Approach.”

“Just a second there, Buttercup. My wager was for three months, and today makes exactly three months. Never bet against the bookie,” Varric said with a cocky grin.

“Pisshead, shitebucket...” Sera cursed and then stuck a finger at Solas’ chest. “You could have waited a few more days to break her heart, assmunch.”

Nehn should have been disgusted that her friends would bet on her love life, but there wasn’t anything they wouldn’t gamble on. She would have been amazed if there wasn’t a pool on the relationship. It would have been polite if they could have waited to settle their bets out of her presence, but this involved Sera who was never considerate. 

Nehn started to snicker. Dorian thought she had begun to cry and moved to comfort her. Then he noticed that her shoulders were shaking from laughter not crying. He joined her and soon everyone but Solas was hooting at the awkwardness of the entire situation. Nehn finally said, “Do I at least get a cut of the proceeds?”

“No, but I’ll buy you a drink, Sassy,” Varric promised. “You, too, Chuckles. Just not at the same time.”

Solas glared at Varric and stalked away. Cole looked at Nehn, who nodded, before trailing after the apostate. With Solas gone, Bull asked, “You okay, Boss?”

“I will be. I’m more angry than anything which has me thinking that it might be a good time for us to figure out how to kill a dragon,” she said with a mischievous smile.

“Don’t joke about something like that, Boss.”

“I’m serious, Bull. Corypheus’ dragon destroyed Haven and nearly ruined our chances here. We’ll have to kill it eventually, so we might as well start practicing,” Nehn explained.

“Shit, Sassy, couldn’t you come up with something a little less life threatening to get you over Chuckles?” Varric questioned.

“Maybe, but right now I’m feeling like being a bit destructive.”

“There’s a Qunari trapped inside that tiny body,” Bull said with admiration.

“Or a lunatic,” Dorian added while patting Nehn on the back.

********************

When they returned to Griffon Wing Keep, Nehn met with Cullen and Leliana. They covered various Inquisition business and then the conversation turned to Nehn’s plans. She knew Cullen would disapprove of her dragon fighting idea, but she confessed it anyway and braced for his reprisals.

He railed against her proposal vehemently while she listened patiently, and then she explained her logic.

“I detest it when you make sense about things like this,” he finally admitted. “I’m concerned for your safety and that of your team, but you’re right - the dragon is a problem. Just please, try to be prudent. No one else can mend rifts, Inquisitor.”

_Nice utilitarian way to think of me, Commander._ “I know. I will be careful,” Nehn said.

“What dragon will you try to kill first?” Leliana asked.

“I’ve met a researcher here that has been tracking one. He’s very knowledgeable about dragons. I thought I’d start with the one he’s been following. Then scouts have reported another one in the area Cullen’s men opened up in the Exalted Plains. That should keep me occupied until I have to get back to Skyhold for Josie’s ball preparations.”

Leliana commented, “Don’t get injured, or Josie will kill you. She’s had several elaborate ballgowns made for you. I think she plans to dress you up like one of the dolls she keeps hidden in her room.”

Nehn groaned and then remembered something else she needed to tell her advisors. “Solas and Cole will be traveling back to Skyhold with you. Solas is going to be investigating some elven glyphs we found in the Dales. Venatori agents were interested in them, so we think there might be some significance to them.”

“Solas isn’t going with you?” Cullen asked with confusion.

“No, we need some time away from each other.” Nehn answered.

“So you two _are_ no longer together,” Leliana stated rather than questioned. “Some of my agents reported that, but I doubted it. I’m sorry, Inquisitor. I know you had gotten close.”

“It’s for the best,” Nehn said curtly. She really didn’t care to talk about it anymore. It just made her chest feel tight and her breathing hard. She was also annoyed that Leliana followed her life so closely. _I wonder how much detail goes into the reports she receives. I bet she has a better idea of how many times we had sex than I do,_ Nehn thought bitterly.

Cullen wasn’t quite sure what to say. He’d only learned they were a couple mere days before. Now they weren’t. It felt terribly selfish, but he was elated that Nehn and Solas weren’t together. He knew Nehn needed time to heal but he promised himself he wouldn’t be so hesitant about telling her how he felt once she had.


	50. Chapter 50

A few days after Cullen and Leliana left for Skyhold, Nehn, Hawke, and Merrill were sitting at a table at Griffon Wing Keep sharing supper. “Hawke, I appreciate all that you’ve done,” Nehn began.

“But?” Hawke interrupted.

“I was hoping I could convince you to help just a little more,” she said with a sheepish look.

“Oh, say we’ll help her, ma vhenan. It’ll be fun. Just like the old days racing around Kirkwall killing bandits and finding moth-eaten scarves,” Merrill encouraged.

Nehn’s heart lurched when Merrill said “ma vhenan,” but she kept her mind focused on the task at hand. “Let me tell you what I want first, then you can decide about assisting. Varric tells me that you fought and killed a high dragon in the Bone Pit outside Kirkwall...”

“I do not like where this is going.” Hawke interrupted again.

“So I was wondering if you’d lend your expertise when we try to kill the abyssal high dragon that roosts near here,” Nehn said expectantly.

“Of course you were,” Hawke sighed.

“Oh, a dragon fight. They’re quite exciting with all the fire and tail thrashing. It did feel sad having to kill all those baby dragons, but they wouldn’t stop trying to eat us. You’ll let me fight, too, won’t you? I rarely hit my companions with my spells anymore,” Merrill rambled while Hawke stroked his beard.

“One dragon. Then we get to go back to relative obscurity,” Hawke bargained. “You can keep Varric, though. It seems he can’t keep his mouth shut,” 

“It’s a deal,” Nehn said and smiled brightly. “We’ve determined its feeding patterns and have a location ready to bait. I thought we could discuss your strategy a bit.”

“Our strategy was simple - don’t die, and when you’re about to die - hope Anders notices and heals you,” Hawke said. 

“I miss Anders - not the Anders that lectured me about spirits and magic but the one that liked kittens and helping people,” Merrill said wistfully while Hawke stared as his flagon uncomfortably.

Nehn couldn’t imagine how awful it would be to have to kill one of her inner circle, and she’d only known them for a few months. Hawke and Anders had been together for six years before Anders had blown up Kirkwall’s Chantry and effectively started the mage rebellion. Nehn wondered how she would have react in a similar situation if one of her teammates tried to change the world and murdered innocents in the process. She hoped she would never find out. _None of your companions are abominations. Don’t worry about it,_ she reminded herself.

“We don’t tend to have someone dedicated to healing when we fight, although I can revive people in a pinch. If Solas were here, we might be able to manage that strategy, but...” Nehn thought out loud.

“Oh, Solas was your ... what did you call him? Your complication. I met him before he left. He seemed a bit broody. Did you manage to uncomplicate things with him?” Merrill chirped.

“You could say that,” Nehn answered. “We’re not together anymore.”

“Well, that makes it much less complicated - simple even,” Merrill said.

“I hope so,” Nehn admitted before steering the conversation back to dragons. “Hawke, you wouldn’t need as much healing, though, fighting with us. Dorian and I are very good at maintaining barriers.”

“That would be nice for a change. Not actually getting injured in the first place,” Hawke commented.

“Oh, I hardly ever got hurt,” Merrill said.

“Well not everyone can conjure rock armor,” Hawke pointed out.

“True. That’s a rather handy spell. Came up with it myself - of course it was by accident. I could teach it to you if you’d like - it isn’t even blood magic,” Merrill twittered.

Nehn glanced around quickly looking for Rylen or one of the other templars. “Merrill, be careful what you talk about. The walls have ears,” Nehn warned.

“They do? How did you manage that? Is it a dwarven enchantment? The things Sandal could come up with... Vhenan, do you remember when he made those tiny runes we could put on Dog’s poop to make it disappear? Those were so practical - well until the bedroom caught fire,” Merrill digressed. Hawke merely nodded and smiled.

Nehn wondered to herself if perhaps Merrill had used too much of her own blood performing magic over the years. Surely no elf could be that air-headed naturally. She decided a direct approach would be necessary. “I meant be careful how you speak about your magic. Several of the officers here are templars.”

“Templars can listen through walls? You’d think they’d have known more of what was happening at the Gallows,” Merrill replied and Nehn gave up. 

“Anyway, we were thinking of leaving tomorrow. The baiting location is a day’s ride to the east. We already have an Inquisition camp in the area, so we won’t even have to set up tents,” Nehn explained.

“We’ll be ready, Inquisitor. You might want to have a few healers travel with us just in case.” Hawke said then stood.

**********************  
Iron Bull placed the last piece of bait in the traps laid for the high dragon. “Today is going to be a good day,” he roared and Nehn hoped he was right.

Nehn saw the red outline of the dragon appearing against the sky. _Shit, this was a bad idea ... a really bad idea,_ she thought as she ordered everyone to drink a fire resistance potion and prepared to put up barriers on herself and her companions.

“This one seems a big larger than the one at the Bone Pit,” Merrill commented as she swathed herself in rock armor.

“Don’t worry, Daisy, we’ve got this,” Varric soothed. “Right, Sassy?”

“Sure, Varric, it’s all under control,” Nehn lied.

When the dragon got in range, Varric began peppering it with crossbow bolts. The dragon landed in the middle of their party and began to claw and swipe at them with its massive forelimbs. Nehn saw her opening and fade stepped directly under the dragon and began slashing at its cream and green dappled underbelly with her spectral sword. With each successful hit, her barrier replenished as well as shocked the dragon.

The dragon took off the ground briefly to get away from Nehn’s attacks and then breathed fire toward Iron Bull who was running toward it with his massive war axe over his head. Nehn flinched, but saw that the protective barrier around Bull held as he rolled out of the flames. “Taarsidath-an halsaam!” he yelled with wild bloodlust and ran toward the dragon.

_Crazy Qunari_ Nehn thought as she swigged another fire resistance potion and joined Bull hacking at the dragon’s legs. The dragon began to beat its wings furiously creating a vacuum that drug Merrill, Hawke, and Varric closer to its body. Nehn felt their barriers weaken, so she stopped her slashing to renew their protection inadvertently causing her own barrier to fall. She noticed her error before getting crushed and fade stepped well out of range. _Note to self - don’t do that again._

Hawke moved in and out of stealth slashing at the dragon with his two daggers while Merrill cast spells dealing heavy nature damage. Varric laid down caltrops and then backflipped out of the dragon’s reach. With her mana regenerated, Nehn put up another barrier on herself and cast barrages of frost using the powerful staff Tempest she’d acquired at a nearby temple.

The dragon seemed to be weakening, but not quickly enough for Nehn’s taste. She called out to her friends to get clear and then cast the mark of the rift at the dragon’s belly. When the rift closed, the dragon was staggering but still breathing fire. Nehn hit it with another barrage of frost magic, fade stepped into melee range, and began hacking at it again. Bull and Hawke were near her each working on one of the dragon’s forelimbs. Finally, the dragon fell forward unable to use it’s front legs but still breathing fire and thrashing wildly. 

Nehn reminded her friends to take another fire resistance potion and resumed slashing at the monster. Her muscles became exhausted, and she fade stepped away and resumed casting frost spells. With one giant burst of ice from Nehn coupled with Merrill’s nature damage, the dragon fell dead.

Nehn glanced around. Her companions were all alive although definitely singed and bruised. Checking herself for injury, she noticed that her bad shoulder had taken a significant hit. _That’s going to need some attention, but at least I didn’t dislocate it again._

Bull rushed over, picked Nehn up, and tossed her into the air. “Today is the best day of my life!” he exclaimed.

“Careful, Bull, I’m a mage. We’re squishy- remember?” Nehn warned. 

Bull put her down gently. “Sorry, Boss. Did you see that fire? Feel the way the earth rumbled with each of its steps? Smell how the air filled with smoke and blood? It was glorious!”

“I’m glad we’re alive, and it isn’t,” Nehn quipped.

Nehn’s other companions that had purposefully stayed out of range of the fighting ran down and congratulated them.

“There were a few times you had me worried, but you did well,” Cassandra commented.

“I’ll bet you can’t wait to join us on the next one,” Bull exclaimed.

“Actually, I would be happy to sit it out. If the Inquisitor needs me, however, I will fight,” Cassandra said in her thick Nevarran brogue.

“Can’t wait until it’s my turn to fill one of those blighters with tons of little arrows,” Sera screamed and whacked Bull on the shoulder. “You lucky cuss getting to take on a dragon before me.”

“I’m in no hurry to fight one of those,” Dorian stated. “However, it must be quite a rush doing it and not dying.”

Varric tottered over. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” he cursed as he rested Bianca on his shoulder. “Still it was nice to fight with Daisy and Hawke again.”

“Oh, that was so exciting. And there weren’t any baby dragons, so I don’t feel guilty at all,” Merrill related.

“That’s our dragon. Now to head off into the sunset,” Hawke said.

“At least stay for the victory celebration,” Nehn pleaded. “Bull’s brought some of his maraas-lok, and I’m told the sight of me drunk is something everyone should see at least once in their lives.”


	51. Chapter 51

Nehn’s shoulder began to hurt worse as the adrenaline rush from the battle wore off. Hawke was still deciding whether he would take off immediately or join in the celebration when Nehn realized she needed to get to a healer quickly. Her own mana was expended by the battle, so she couldn’t help herself. She made it half way to the healers’ tent before she fainted. 

When she came to, she was face down on a cot with searing pain in her shoulder. She screamed out in agony, and one of the healers put a steadying hand on her. “We’re almost done, Inquisitor. Here have a little more of this sleeping draught,” one of the healers’ assistants said and then dribbled a potion into Nehn’s mouth. Nehn tumbled back into a black, dreamless repose as the healers and medics continued to repair Nehn’s damaged back and shoulder.

Two hours later, Nehn awoke feeling groggy and ridiculously sore. She was still laying on her stomach, so she tried to get up.

“Whoa there. Don’t try to wiggle around, Sassy,” a gravelly voice corrected her.

“Varric, what happened? I felt fine. Just a little sore and then...” Nehn didn’t finish her thought and groaned.

“You must have brushed up against the dragon at some point. The healers pulled two of its scales out of your back and shoulder. You were so covered in what we thought was dragon blood that we didn’t realize a good bit was your own.”

Nehn moaned again, “This hurts worse than after Haven.”

“The healers think the scales were poisonous - or that you were allergic to them. Either way, your back is a hive covered mess.”

“Well, shit...” Nehn replied. “Is everyone else okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just a few cuts and bruises. Bull is still running around like a wild man. We’re holding off on celebrating until you’re back on your feet.”

“What about Hawke and Merrill?”

“They’ve already taken off. He’s worn out with fighting and wants a normal life - well, as much of a normal life as he can manage with Daisy.”

“I’m sorry, Varric. I know how much you enjoyed having them around.”

“It’s okay, Sassy. Hawke isn’t the same guy I hung around with back then. He’s still my closest friend, but what happened with his mother and then Anders really changed him. I hope he finds some peace. He did the best he could. It was just a shitty situation all around.”

“I’ll miss him and Merrill - especially Merrill. I never knew what she was going to say next.”

“Daisy is one-in-a-million. She shared a secret before she left, but she asked me to tell you. She’s pregnant.”

“Fenedhis! Why was she fighting a dragon? Why did Hawke let her?”

“He didn’t know. Daisy only told him after the battle. As for why she joined in, I have no explanation other than that’s just the way she is - doing stupid things to try to help people.”

Varric stayed silent for awhile and then said, “Since I’ve got a captive audience and we’re alone, let me tell you about Bianca.”

Nehn listened as Varric took her back fifteen years when he met a brilliant young smith with a caustic wit and a rebellious streak. He explained how her family - the Kalnas - were rigid dwarven traditionalists even though they lived on the surface and hated her seeing someone outside her caste. He spoke warmly of their adventures together, their attempts to get away from her family, and her drawing the schematics for an invention that they hoped would make them rich - a rapid firing crossbow.

“It wasn’t as if my family was thrilled with us being together. You see merchants think they’re superior to smiths and vice versa. It’s all bullshit - the castes, Orzammar, the Stone... Our being together nearly started a clan war. My brother and her parents got together and came up with a plan to keep us apart for good. Her parents found her a respectable smith from the Davri clan and arranged a marriage. Then they hired assassins to kill me telling her the only way that the hit would be called off was if she married the other guy. We tried escaping a few times, but the Carta always caught up to us.”

“She didn’t want my blood on her hands, and I was a coward that was tired of running. The next time her parents had the wedding ceremony set up, she went. I’m surprised that the groom showed - she’d stood him up four times before, but Bianca has that affect on people. You just want to be with her - forever,” Varric finished.

“Have you even seen her since then?” Nehn asked.

“We see each other from time to time, write letters...” Varric sighed. “Look, I didn’t tell you all of that to drag you down. You’ve done something I’ve never been able to do - move on. True you did it with Chuckles which wasn’t the best choice in retrospect.. but you did it. I can’t tell you how much I admire and envy you for that.”

“Varric ...”

“Quiet, you need your rest. The healers are giving me the stink eye for keeping you awake.” 

**********************

Nehn’s injury scuttled their plans to take on a second dragon, but it didn’t keep Bull from wanting to celebrate killing their first. As soon as Nehn was well enough to sit up and walk, he appeared with pitchers of maraas-lok and her other companions. The healers warned Nehn not to overindulge, so she complied sipping on a weakened mead as her companions got progressively more inebriated on Bull’s 90 proof rotgut.

Bull spoke semi-eloquently of the Qunari obsession with the Atashi (dragons) and their battle against one. Then he held up his mug and yelled, “Taarsidath-an halsaam!” 

“You said that when we were trying to kill the dragon, Bull. What does it mean?” Nehn asked.

“Closest translation would be, ‘I will bring myself sexual pleasure later, while thinking about this with great respect,’” Bull explained.

“And you shouted that while it was breathing fire at us,” Nehn said in disbelief.

“I know, right?” Bull grunted, and Nehn shook her head. Iron Bull was the horniest person - figuratively and literally - that she had ever met. She briefly wondered what sex with him would be like but quickly rejected the idea based on their size differences. She was a small elf, and he was an enormous Qunari. The mechanics wouldn’t lend themselves to anything comfortable, and Nehn wasn’t into mixing pleasure and pain.

Nehn took another small sip of mead and thanked the Creators for the slightly insane but utterly loyal group of people around her. They had already stood alongside her for so much, and they never failed to give her hope or lift her spirits. “I love you all,” she declared loudly.

“You’ve barely had anything to drink. Declarations like that usually take much more alcohol,” Dorian commented.

“I’m not drunk. I mean it. I don’t know what I’d do without each of you. I just... I just love you,” Nehn reemphasized.

“We love you, too, Sassy,” Varric replied. 

“To the Boss!” Bull yelled holding his mug high in the air. Nehn’s friends joined the toast and downed their drinks.


	52. Chapter 52

With fighting another dragon out of the question, Nehn and her companions detoured south on their return trip to Skyhold and followed up on the lyrium smuggling routes Cullen had identified in the Emerald Graves. While there, they gained the support of a man who called himself Fairbanks who was leading a resistance against the Freemen of the Dales in the area. Nehn relied heavily on her teammates to help clear the region of the Freemen and their Red Templar allies - stepping into battle only to close rifts as she was still recovering from the poisoning she’d received from the dragon scales. Once the worst of the problems in the Emerald Graves were addressed, they turned northeast to Skyhold.

Josephine was elated when Nehn and her companions made it to Skyhold. She had been worried Nehn would avoid preparing for Celene’s ball altogether, but Nehn did as she’d promised showing up right in the middle of the four to six week window she’d given herself. The ambassador hoped she could convince Nehn to take the ball seriously. The Game - especially as it was played in the Imperial Court - could be just as deadly as a true battle.

When she first returned to Skyhold, Nehn’s primary concern was with catching up with her children. Much to her advisors’ chagrin she spent a week doing nothing but spending time with them - helping Sylvia train mabari, eating meals and shooting arrows with Falon when he was off duty, and watching Asha demonstrate her magic. Whenever a runner would send for Nehn or approach with a missive, she shooed them away saying she had another week before she was technically due to be back, so any business they had could wait.

Once her week’s staycation finished, Nehn appeared in the war room at the appointed time ready to work. Josephine and Leliana were aggravated with her delay, but Cullen was glad that she took time with her family. Asha, who sometimes stopped by his office to bring him cookies or show him a new spell, had been missing her mother terribly during her four month plus absence. Knowing how much Nehn loved her children, Cullen assumed the months apart had been difficult for her as well.

The war council met in earnest for several hours as Nehn parceled out favors, repaid debts, and made alliances by sending the Inquisition’s assets to different parts of Thedas. Cullen outlined how he was using the data Nehn had obtained in the Emerald Graves to track Samson. As he spoke, Nehn noticed his voice was more tremulous than normal and that he often appeared to be leaning on the war table to keep himself upright. Cullen’s eyes were hollow and his face was no longer clean shaven. Nehn concluded his lyrium withdrawals had gotten much worse since she had last seen him, and it concerned her greatly.

After the council meeting ended, Nehn approached Cullen and tried to initiate a conversation to gauge his well-being. He was fixated on finding Samson, and no matter how she tried to engage him in talking about another topic he returned to the Red Templar’s leader. Cullen and Nehn walked across the Great Hall, and he opened the door that led to Solas’ study and the most direct route to his office. Nehn froze. She had been purposefully (and somewhat cowardly) avoiding Solas since her return. _How do you go from sleeping with someone to barely being able to share a roof with them?_ she thought.

Cullen noticed Nehn’s hesitation and started to shut the door. “We can go another way if you prefer,” he offered.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve just been avoiding this,” Nehn admitted.

Cullen nodded and to Nehn’s surprise put his hand on the small of her back as he opened the door. “Then I’ll escort you through,” he said and did just that casually guiding Nehn past her former lover with a nod. She followed his lead, nodded at Solas, and kept walking.

When they got to the battlements, he dropped his hand and smiled at Nehn. “See? Not so bad.”

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I know I’ll have to speak with him eventually, but it is really awkward.”

“It ended poorly between you?”

“He admitted he was lying to me, but he refused to tell me about what. I couldn’t put up with that, so I ended it - abruptly. Then I sent him packing here rather than have to face him. It was callow on my part.”

“Says a woman that defeated a dragon...” Cullen retorted.

Nehn felt the familiar flutter she got when she was around Cullen and decided to change the subject. She was in no place emotionally to nurse a crush. “I’ve noticed your symptoms seem worse. Are you sleeping well?”

Cullen sighed. Nehn had dumped Solas for lying. He wouldn’t make the same mistake. “I’m not sleeping well or doing well for that matter. In fact, I asked Cassandra to find a replacement for me,” he said as he opened the door to his office. Nehn felt like she might faint but tried to mask her alarm.

“Cassandra refused, but I think I may have to force the issue. She says that I need to stay the course. That the Inquisition needs me,” Cullen said while dragging his fingers along the papers on his desk.

“We do need you, Cullen. I know we’ve had this argument before, but why won’t you let me or another healer help you with the withdrawal symptoms?” Nehn pressed.

Cullen was exhausted from flashbacks, pain, lack of sleep, and lyrium cravings, but more than that he was tired of trying to manage it all on his own. He started talking to Nehn about the incidents that had driven him to fear magic and mistrust mages. His voice was tight with emotion as he detailed being captured and tortured by blood mages when he was a young templar in Ferelden’s Circle. He described seeing his friends slaughtered in front of him and then having demons torment and tempt him as he was powerless to fight back. He mentioned that he would have likely died or gone insane had the Hero of Ferelden not rescued him.

Cullen’s voice turned harsh and bitter as he spoke of still wanting to serve and being transferred to Kirkwall. From Varric’s stories, Nehn knew that Kirkwall would have been the absolute last place anyone who was recovering from attacks by blood mages should have been stationed. The veil was thin in the city, and it had a long history of dark magic. 

During his tenure in Kirkwall, Cullen’s Knight Commander Meredith grew increasingly brutal and paranoid when dealing with the troubled circle’s mages which only led to more problems with them. Unbeknownst to Cullen or anyone else, Meredith’s madness was fueled by exposure to red lyrium and only ended when she turned against the Champion of Kirkwall and her own men - including Cullen. “Can you see why I want nothing to do with that life?” Cullen asked Nehn.

“Even without knowing that, I understood why someone would want to be free of lyrium. No one should be made a slave. What amazes me is the openness you’ve shown toward mages since then,” Nehn said.

“Openness? I let my experiences in Ferelden color how I treated all mages. I treated them with contempt, disdain, and mistrust,” Cullen argued.

“Until you chose a different path...” Nehn said quietly. “And now you sit here alone with a mage who trusts you with not only her life but her childrens’ lives. Whatever man you were Cullen, you are not that person now.”

Cullen walked over to his bookshelves and leaned against them. “None of that matters if I can’t keep my promises. I should give no less to the Inquisition than I gave to the Chantry,” he said through gritted teeth and then raged while pounding his fist against the shelves, “I should be taking it. I should be taking it.”

“No, you shouldn’t - not if you don’t want to.” Nehn answered while walking closer to him and lightly touching him on the chest. “What do _you_ want, Cullen?”

He ran his hand through his hair and dropped it to his side. “What if I can’t resist? What if the memories become too much?” he asked while shaking his head and avoiding Nehn’s eyes.

“You can,” Nehn said and forced him to meet her eyes. “And if you need someone to tell you not to use lyrium, I will be that person. Don’t do it. Nothing is worth losing your freedom.”

Cullen sighed and closed his eyes. She honestly believed he could do it. He had to at least keep trying. He nodded his assent, and she smiled so warmly that he felt his heart melt. He wouldn’t let her down.

“My offer to relieve your symptoms stands, but I understand your reluctance. I will insist, however, that you allow me to distract you today if you won’t let me heal you.”

“I have too much work, Inquisitor,” Cullen protested.

“That wasn’t me asking you Cullen. I’m offering you a choice - either I heal the worst of your symptoms and you keep working, or you let me keep your mind occupied while you cope with the pain. I should add there is a third option - my personal favorite - which is that you would let me both heal and distract you today, but I bet you’re too much of a workaholic to take that one.”

“You can’t be serious...” Cullen said.

“Oh, I am completely serious, and I still remember our discussion about the army’s rules on insubordination,” Nehn retorted.

“You wouldn’t...” he said, and then realized that she absolutely would throw him in the brig if he didn’t comply. “Fine, you win.”

“Which means?” Nehn questioned with a crooked grin.

“You can use your magic,” Cullen said not believing the words were coming out of his mouth.

Nehn beamed. “I’ll tell you everything I’m going to do and try to describe how it will feel to the best of my ability before I do it. Okay?”

Cullen’s entire body was rigid as if he was preparing to be run through. 

“First thing, would you mind disarming and taking off your armor? Your leathers and padding are fine, but I don’t enjoy trying to push healing magic through metal. It makes my mouth taste funny.”

“Really?” Cullen questioned, and Nehn nodded. He reluctantly removed his armor and laid his weapons aside. Nehn smiled and patted him on the shoulder before having him sit down.

“First, I’m just going to cast a calming aura over us. I do it every morning. It settles my nerves.”

“I’ve seen you do that once - when you were arguing with Leliana about Falon. I was afraid you were going to strike her down,” Cullen commented.

“So was I, that’s why I cast it instead. It will feel like sliding into a warm bathtub after a hard day training. Ready?”

Cullen nodded and gripped the armrests of his chair tightly. Then he felt a sense of peace descend around him. It felt good but not like sliding into a warm tub. He’d describe it more as the feeling of blowing out a candle after a long prayer vigil. 

“Good so far?” Nehn asked.

“That wasn’t bad - nice even.”

“Now, I’ll just use some simple spells to help with your aches and pains. Nothing fancy - just straightforward regenerative magic. Some people say it tickles, others feel more of a tingling sensation. I tend to feel itchy - like when the skin underneath a scab is finishing the last stages of healing. Regardless, it will feel odd but not painful. Ready?”

“Sure,” Cullen said and closed his eyes. Nehn took his hands in her own. _Maker, they’re so small - almost like a child’s,_ he thought. Then she sent her magic through him. He started to snicker at the sensation. She didn’t stop but commented, “Oh, you’re a ticklish one, then. You’ll mend more quickly. Laughter does help healing.”

Cullen continued to snicker and started to wiggle a bit. “Tell me if it gets to be too much,” Nehn said. “I often have to break up healing sessions with ticklish people.”

“Maybe just a little break - for me to catch my breath,” Cullen said, and Nehn immediately withdrew her magic and let go of his hands.

“You’re doing very well,” she praised. 

“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this,” he said.

“Don’t overthink it. I don’t want to waste mana on another calming aura. Tell me when you’re ready. This time I’m going to try a variant of the spell to see if it will tickle less.”

“Ready,” Cullen said after a few deep breaths.

Nehn took his hands and poured magic into him again. The sensation he felt was warm and tingly. 

“I like this better,” he said and relaxed against the back of his chair.

“I’m going to move my hands, but nothing else will change,” Nehn said as she stood and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. Her magic felt the same but traveled through his body in a different direction.

“Moving them again,” she warned and took his face between her hands. His eyes flew open, and she smiled. “This will help with your headaches and neck strain.”

He closed his eyes again, but this time he concentrated less on the feel of her magic than her nearness. She smelled like vanilla and something else ... he couldn’t identify the scent, but it was pleasant. Her breath was warm, but her hands were cool. He was surprised to discover that her marked hand felt no different than her normal one. He would have guessed there would have been a temperature difference at the very least. Her hands were calloused, but her touch was very gentle. He found himself nearly falling asleep.

She worked for a while longer sometimes humming an elven tune and occasionally announcing that she’d be relocating her hands. Then she simply stopped and said. “I’m done for now. Did that help?”

Cullen was so blissfully comfortable he nearly purred, “Much better. Thank you.”

“I’ll let you return to work then,” she said and prepared to leave.

“Wait!” Cullen called out, “I take the third option.”

Nehn turned around grinning from ear to ear. “Excellent. Come with me.”

Cullen and Nehn spent the remainder of the day avoiding responsibilities after notifying Cassandra what they were doing. Cassandra, for her part, usually hated those who dodged work, but Cullen had been so troubled that she was glad to see him take even a few hours for himself. First, Nehn and Cullen played a game of chess in the courtyard then they ate a light meal. 

“So what are we going to do now?” he asked.

“What was your favorite thing to do growing up?”

“There was a lake near where I lived. I’d go there to enjoy the silence and the view.”

“There isn’t a lake in Skyhold, but I know somewhere very restful - to me at least. Come on.”

Cullen followed Nehn across the courtyard and past the armory. When she stopped to open a door, he said, “The dungeon?”

“Yes, come on - you’ll see.”

He followed her skeptically through the dungeon which was largely empty. Nehn glanced at the prisoners and said, “I’ll need to sit in judgment tomorrow.” 

When the chief guard saw Nehn she said, “Good to see you again, Inquisitor.” Nehn chatted briefly with the guard, with whom she was evidently well acquainted, and then walked past some empty holding cells to another door. 

“This area isn’t completed, Inquisitor,” Cullen said.

“I know - and no one ever comes here. It’s completely free of Orleasian nobles and Inquisition runners,” she said with a mischievous grin. “And the view is indescribable.”

A huge waterfall ran out from underneath the dungeons and streamed down the mountainside. The area where Nehn and Cullen were at had eroded away partially leaving a sheer drop, but there were walkways on either side. Nehn pointed and then proceeded to climb along one of the debris strewn walkways until she was nearly at the end. She sat down and held her hands out. Cullen followed her carefully - it wasn’t easy terrain to cover in heavy armor, but the view he found was worth it. He could see for miles in every direction. It was gorgeous, and the rush of the waterfall provided a soothing white noise.

“This is perfect,” he said as he sat near Nehn. 

“Now don’t go telling Leliana and Josephine about my hiding spot. A girl needs a place to collect her thoughts,” she elbowed Cullen. “A guy does, too, evidently.”

They sat in companionable silence enjoying the view as the sun descended. Cullen noticed how even the smallest changes in the clouds and lighting above caused profound differences in how the mountains appeared. It wasn’t the lake back in Honnleath, but it was another sort of sacred space where his soul and mind could renew.


	53. Chapter 53

“Let’s try again, Inquisitor,” Josephine said through clenched teeth. “The minuet is a staple at Celene’s balls. Remember to keep your chin held high and your back straight.”

Nehn’s feet hurt her so much she wanted to cry. She rarely wore shoes when she lived in the Free Marches. Only when she’d come to the much colder mountains in Ferelden for the Conclave had she worn them with any regularity, and even then they were boots meant to be comfortable for long periods of walking. Earlier that morning, Josephine had strapped Nehn’s feet into some type of Orleasian torture device called a high heel and then made her hop, prance, and glide around in them for hours.

As if the high heels weren’t painful enough, Josephine had seen Nehn cinched into a corset which made her sides ache and her breathing labored. Her tiny breasts were pressed embarrassingly high by the contraption. Nehn had spent a good portion of the morning blushing as Josephine and Leliana stuffed padding into her underthings to compensate for her lack of endowment. Then they had weighed her down with layers of crinoline and silk skirts beneath an extravagantly beaded ballgown. Nehn felt leaden and guessed that wearing a hair shirt studded with nails wouldn’t be much worse.

Bull and Dorian had been brought in to help with Nehn’s dance instruction, and they were both sitting with their feet up and iced to recover from Nehn’s many missteps. She looked at them apologetically and then resumed dancing when the music began again. After watching her charge move with the grace of a druffalo in heat for the umpteenth time that day, Josephine threw her hands in the air declaring Nehn a hopeless case.

Solas had stopped to watch Nehn’s dance lessons a few minutes before and wore a look of utter amusement at her discomfort. She shot him a to-the-void-with-you look and held her chin higher while proceeding to twist her ankle in the heels. “Fenedhis!” she yelled as she took the heels off and in a moment of pique threw them across the room.

“Would you be open to a suggestion?” Solas asked, and Nehn’s eyes narrowed before she sighed and consented to hear him out. “Stop trying to dress and act like a human. Take advantage of the fact that you’re different from the others. Play up your exotic allure, and they’ll be too distracted to notice that you struggle with their customs.”

Leliana cocked her head at his words and glanced over to Josephine who said, “At this point, I’m open to anything. Solas, do you have an idea of what she should wear?”

“I could certainly draw something once commonly worn by elven nobility. The seamstresses at Skyhold are talented enough to construct the dress from my rendering. That is, if you’d consent to my doing so?” he said while looking pointedly at Nehn.

_Great, so my choice is to wear this shemlen bondage attire or let my ex design my outfit. Fabulous._ “That would be helpful. Thank you,” Nehn answered politely while mentally adding “prick” to the end of her sentence. Solas smugly left to begin sketching her attire.

“I think we’ve had enough dancing for today, Inquisitor. We’ll take an hour and a half break and then resume studying the dossiers of the various nobles we expect to be in attendance,” Josephine announced while smoothing her hair.

“Praise Sylaise,” Nehn whispered and struggled to get to her feet. Bull hobbled over to her and offered her a hand which finally enabled her to stand. “I hate asking him for help, but anything has to be better than what I’m wearing now.”

“I gotta agree with you, Boss,” Bull said. “You’ve got a great body, but your tits look ridiculous in that thing - and not in a good way.”

“And they say Qunari have no charm,” Nehn deadpanned.

“Just calling it as I see it,” Bull replied. “When you’re out of that mess, come by the training yard. I need to talk to you about something.”

“You got it, Bull,” Nehn said and eagerly headed to her quarters to change. She slid into her well worn beige leathers and a pair of boots lined with lambskin. “Much better,” she cooed before heading out to speak with Bull.

Bull was practicing shield techniques with Krem who often fought using a two handed weapon. It seemed incredibly unfair to pit Bull’s enormous size and strength against Krem’s much smaller physique, but Nehn was impressed with how well Krem held his own even as Bull barked corrections at him. Bull noticed Nehn and told Krem to take a break before describing an opportunity to ally with the Qunari.

“Why do the Qunari need my help specifically to handle this? Are there rifts in the area?” Nehn quizzed.

“You cleared out all the rifts on the Storm Coast when we were last there. I think they just see your presence as a way of cementing an alliance,” Bull explained as he began to wonder if Nehn was even interested in strengthening ties.

“Tell them I’ll be happy to send agents to assist them in destroying this shipment of red lyrium, but I won’t go myself,” Nehn answered. _I am sick and tired of dragging my ass around Thedas for problems other people could handle._

“I don’t think they’ll appreciate that Boss. It may cost the alliance with them entirely,” Bull said hesitantly.

“Bull, I trust you, but I do not trust Qunari in general. The Qun is the antithesis of my beliefs. I’m happy to partner with your people against a mutual enemy, but I will not officially ally with the Qunari or help them establish a foothold in southern Thedas,” Nehn said pointedly.

“They’re not going to like that, Boss. They’ll likely recall me if you don’t comply.” _Shit, Boss, you’re putting me in a really tough spot here._

“Then they aren’t offering an alliance, Bull. They’re merely trying to coerce me. I know your beliefs are important to you, and I won’t force you to stay with the Inquisition against them. You are, however, always welcome to remain with us,” Nehn replied trying to sound professional rather than desperate. _Please stay._

“Disobeying a directive would make me Tal-Vashoth, Boss,” Bull said while shifting uncomfortably.

“Follow your conscience, Bull. Offer the Inquisition’s aid to deal with this problem. If they are being reasonable and simply want to stop red lyrium from reaching Minrathous, they’ll accept our help without my presence. Otherwise, they were just trying to strong arm me. I’m not a saarabas to be bound and controlled. I have my own free will, and I choose to use it,” Nehn said firmly.

“Okay, Boss. I’ll let them know, but an alliance with the Qunari could bring us ships and information that we need,” Bull added in a last ditch effort to change her mind.

“It could also bring your beresaad bent on spreading the Qun by any means necessary to Ferelden and Orlais. I won’t risk it,” Nehn replied and ended the conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated the Demands of the Qun quest, so I decided to have Nehn call the Qunari's bluff. Horns up!


	54. Chapter 54

After her discussion with Bull, Nehn felt the need to clear her head. She slipped through the dungeon to her quiet spot and was happy to see Cullen sitting in her place.

“You’ll have to scoot over a bit. You don’t get to hog the view,” Nehn called out.

Cullen looked over his shoulder and then moved over to make room for Nehn. “I thought Josephine and Leliana were torturing - I mean teaching you today.”

“They’re giving me a small break. I think trying to instruct me is actually more agonizing for them. In any event, I needed some time to myself.”

“Would you like me to go?” Cullen asked and started to get up.

“No!” Nehn nearly shouted and then covered by adding, “That wasn’t what I meant. I just need time away from being the Inquisitor.”

“I can imagine you would,” Cullen said with a smirk. “Anyway, I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to thank you... I’d never spoken with anyone about what happened in Ferelden’s Circle... It was a relief to share it with someone.”

“Anytime you need to talk or require healing, I’m here. Well, except when I’m not which is pretty often unfortunately. I know some of what you’re struggling with is intensely private, but you should consider approaching Elindra if your physical symptoms get bad again when I’m away.”

“Why Enchanter Elindra?”

“Her long-time lover was a templar. He committed suicide because of lyrium withdrawals. I think her helping you would be healing for both of you,” Nehn answered quietly.

“I ... I didn’t know that. I”ll consider it. Thank you. What about you? How are you handling everything?”

“Most of the time I’m terrified that I’ll fail. That probably wasn’t the answer you were looking for, but it’s the truth.”

“Actually, Fereldens are rather fond of the truth - even when it isn’t easy to hear. If there is ever any way that I can help, you have only to ask.”

Nehn reached over and patted Cullen’s forearm, “You just did.” 

Nehn bent her legs close to her chest and wrapped her arms around them and silently soaked in the view while Cullen leaned back on his arms and did the same. Ten minutes later, Cullen stood and said, “Duty calls.”

“See you around, Cullen,” Nehn replied while glancing up at him briefly before returning her eyes to the mountains. They both wore small smiles as he walked away.

************************

Three days later, one of the Skyhold seamstresses was handing Nehn a prototype of her new formal attire to try on. “Now this is just a mock up, Inquisitor. The real gown has intricate embroidery - no beading though. Master Solas was very clear that the dress shouldn’t be heavy. We’ll be working around the clock to finish it. We just want you to try this one on for the fit.”

Nehn went behind the dressing screen and put on the creamy organza dress. Rather than having the enormous bell shaped skirts popular in the Orleasian court, the dress draped gently over her body, conforming to her curves and accentuating her shapely rear. The top of the dress covered her breasts fully but left her right shoulder daringly bare. It was both modest and seductive, feminine yet powerful. Nehn loved it even before she saw it in the mirror.

When she came out from behind the screen, the seamstress gasped at Nehn’s appearance. “It fits you perfectly. Master Solas certainly knew what would suit your body.”

_If you only knew the half of it..._ Nehn thought while briefly recalling the more enjoyable aspects of their tryst. “Thank you. It’s very beautiful. If I may keep it, I’d like to practice dancing in it.”

“Of course, my lady. He gave us instructions to make these, too. We have no idea what they’re for, though,” the seamstress said handing Nehn two long thin strips of silk that matched her dress.

“They’re my shoes,” Nehn said with a smile. “Or at least the elven version of them. Let me show you.” Nehn took one of the strips and expertly wrapped them around her foot. “See?”

“I always wondered how you elves did that. Looks comfortable - as long as it isn’t too cold out that is,” the seamstress commented.

Nehn headed down the stairwell to where her dance lesson was being held underneath the great hall. When she entered the room, everyone stared. Josephine jumped up and down and shrieked with delight before containing herself. Leliana gave an approving nod as Nehn entered and then broke into a coy smile when she walked past. 

“Damn, Boss, you look good,” Bull said lustily.

“Like an elven goddess!” Dorian enthused.

“Indeed,” Solas agreed with a twinkle in his eyes.

Nehn had to give Solas credit. He was a lying, arrogant ass, but he knew how to make her look and feel beautiful. “Ma serannas, Solas. The dress is perfect.”

“You are most welcome, Inquisitor. The dress suits you. I’ve also commissioned Sionn to make some appropriate jewelry. I think you will be pleased,” Solas said almost warmly.

“That dress more than suits her. It’s like ‘Bam!’ when she turns around,” Bull said while making a throaty growl at the end of his sentence.

Solas glared at Bull and crossed his arms, “I’m quite aware of her assets, and designed the dress to highlight them tastefully.”

“Stop, you two, you’re making her blush,” Dorian said while offering her his arm and signaling the musicians to play. Without the cumbersome Orleasian-style dress or painful shoes, Nehn’s dancing significantly improved.

“You only stepped on my foot once,” Dorian noted. “My tootsies are ever so grateful.” Nehn smiled, pleased with her progress.

“You did better, but there is a great deal of room for improvement,” Solas critiqued before bowing and extending his hand to her. “May I?” he asked while staring at her eyes intently and wearing a sly grin.

Nehn breathed deeply and warily took his hand. Solas told the musicians a specific waltz to play and then put his hand forcefully against the small of her back which made her arch toward him. He held her in a tight frame not allowing their bodies to touch and began to move with the music. Signaling his intentions with the hand on her back, he wordlessly and effortlessly glided with her across the dance floor as he kept her under his complete control.

She was delighted and annoyed by dancing with him. Delighted because somehow he was helping her understand how she was to move, and annoyed because her body responded to his touch as if he were still her lover. Being in his arms and smelling him flooded her with memories of their time together. The weaker part of her wanted to stop dancing and kiss him. Thankfully, her mind reminded her how much he’d hurt her and how little she trusted him.

When the dance ended, he dropped his arms and bowed looking self-satisfied. _That arrogant bastard knew exactly what he was doing to me,_ Nehn thought as she curtsied with a forced smile. 

Solas addressed Bull and Dorian, “She has a mind of her own and requires a strong lead.” It took every ounce of Nehn’s self-control not to throttle him for the comment, and her eyes flashed angrily as he walked away from the dance floor. 

Dorian leaned over to Bull and said, “Why do I feel as if I’ve just had a glimpse into their entire relationship?”

“Because you have,” Bull answered and shook his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Throwing confetti for 5000 hits.***
> 
> I know I've been updating feverishly lately. I'm getting ready to go on vacation in a little over a week from now, and I won't be taking my computer with me while I'm away.


	55. Chapter 55

The guard knocked sharply on the war room door. _Master Tethras better be right about interrupting them, or the Commander is going to have my ass,_ he thought nervously.

Everyone inside the council chamber stood erect. Orders were very clear that meetings were only to be disrupted in absolute emergencies. Cullen drew his sword and moved to unlock the door while Nehn put a barrier on everyone in the room. Cullen opened the door, and Varric sauntered inside.

“You can put that away, Curly. We’re not under attack. I do, however, have to borrow Sassy,” Varric announced.

“Varric, we’re in the middle of a meeting. Can it wait?” Nehn asked.

“A representative from the Ben-Hassrath just arrived and is talking to Bull in the courtyard. You tell me if it can wait,” Varric answered while cocking his head.

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” Nehn said and took off running.

Cullen started after her, but Varric put a hand on his arm. “Better let her handle this one. If this guy is anything like the ones back in Kirkwall, they’ll only deal with her anyway.”

“And if he’s anything like the ones in Kirkwall, he won’t hesitate to attack if negotiations don’t go his way,” Cullen said as he pushed past Varric and double timed it to catch up with Nehn.

Nehn spotted Bull in the courtyard almost immediately, but there weren’t any other Qunari near him. Instead he was speaking with his arms crossed with a young red haired male elf. Nehn wondered where the Ben-Hassrath agent Varric mentioned was at and then realized the elf _was_ the agent. _Duh, Nehn. Spies aren’t supposed to stand out. Of course the Qunari would use their elven and human converts to blend in and gather information._

Cullen jogged up beside Nehn. “Do you see him?”

Nehn pointed to the training area near the tavern. “What made you decide to join me, Commander? Are you that eager to get away from Josephine and her endless talk about the Game?”

Cullen chuckled, “You saw right through me...” Then he spoke with deadly sincerity, “Actually, I was in Kirkwall when the Qunari were. I just don’t want you to speak with them without back up.”

“Bull will be right there,” Nehn rejoined.

Cullen’s face wrinkled with concern, “Nehn, it’s Bull I’m worried about. You have no idea how deep their loyalties lie, or how quickly they can turn on someone if they feel the Qun demands it.”

Nehn didn’t want to believe Cullen, but she also hadn’t been in Kirkwall during the Qunari uprisings. “Okay then, let’s go sort this out.”

As they walked toward Bull and the Ben-Hassrath agent, Cullen subtly signaled his men to watch the interchange. Falon was nearby training with some archers. He saw the Commander’s signal and made sure his comrades were ready as well. _Mamae, what sort of trouble are you getting into now?_ he wondered as his fingers twitched against his bowstring although he didn’t draw his bow.

“Bull, are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Nehn chirped.

“Sure, Boss. This is Gatt. We go way back to Seheron,” Bull answered while gesturing at the elf across from him. “And Gatt, this is the Inquisitor Nehn Lavellan and the Commander of her armies Cullen Rutherford.”

“Wait - Cullen isn’t your last name?” Nehn asked looking at Cullen with confusion.

Cullen smirked, “No, it isn’t. Templars tend to use first names only. Old habits...” Nodding at Gatt, he added, “We should probably talk about this later.”

“Right, nice to meet you, Gatt. What brings you to Skyhold?” Nehn asked in a sunny voice hoping to disguise her concern.

From the look on Gatt’s face, her attempt to mask her emotions failed. “I’m here to speak with Hissrad about his latest report. Although I’m honored to be able to speak with you as well.”

“Hissrad?” Nehn questioned.

“That’s me, Boss. Hissrad is my title. It means ‘master of illusions,’” Bull explained.

“Liar. It means liar,” Gatt corrected, and Bull growled in annoyance.

“So what was in this last report that warranted a trip to Skyhold?” Nehn asked.

“Don’t you already know? Your spymaster combs through everything he writes, and he hands over everything we send him. Isn’t that right, Hissrad?” Gatt said accusingly.

Bull shifted uncomfortably, and Cullen’s sword hand twitched. Nehn noticed the building tension and hoped to dissipate it. “Let’s go have a seat and talk this out,” she offered while pointing to a table and benches nearby. 

Gatt and Bull sat across from Nehn, but Cullen remained standing with his arms folded. “I’m not here to be a party to these discussions. I’m only here as a guard,” he said making his intentions and loyalties clear.

Nehn didn’t understand Cullen’s posturing, but she wasn’t about to order him to sit down when she saw the set of his jaw. He obviously felt strongly about being ready to engage quickly, and she’d learned to trust his instincts.

“Your Commander at least recognizes the gravity of this situation,” Gatt said to Nehn who felt threatened for the first time. She examined Gatt closely. He was a dual wielding rogue. She couldn’t guess the enchantments that his armor held, but she knew they likely protected him against elemental attacks.

“Gatt, talking like that is liable to make the Boss nervous,” Bull said through clenched teeth. It seemed clear to Nehn that Bull was struggling, but she couldn’t tell if it was to stay loyal to the Inquisition or the Qun.

“So, Gatt, will you tell me the purpose of your visit? I assume it is in response to my sending some of my spymaster’s agents to the Storm Coast to help deal with the red lyrium shipment,” Nehn said.

“In part ...I brought their bodies back to you. The invitation was extended to you and your inner circle. Hissrad should have made it clearer that any deviations from our proposed course of action wouldn’t be acceptable,” Gatt replied with a sinister smirk.

Cullen was on him immediately and had a sword at his throat before Gatt could flinch. Bull looked tensely between Gatt and Nehn.

“Boss, you might want to tell Cullen to release Gatt. We can still talk this out,” Bull advised steadily. Nehn looked around to see that the archers - including Falon- had their arrows trained on Bull. She wanted to nod them off, but Cullen gave her a warning look that told her not to. Even though her stomach lurched, Nehn allowed them to remain ready to fire.

“You sit there and do nothing while a bas threatens one of the Qun,” Gatt shouted toward Bull. “They’ve already turned on you, Hissrad. They have arrows pointed toward you now, and you sit like a coward trying to bargain with her. So many of our people already believe you to be Tal-Vashoth. I told them, Hissrad... I told them that you would never become Tal-Vishoth...” Gatt had turned from shouting to pleading as he reached the end of his statement.

“Cullen’s just looking out for the Inquisitor, Gatt. I don’t begrudge that. If you thought you could come into Skyhold announcing you’d murdered people she’d sent in good faith without repercussions, then you’re not as smart as I thought you were. I’m not Tal-Vashoth. I’ve done what the Qun demands of me,” Bull replied sadly while staring at his hands.

“Bull, I can’t let Gatt go. He’s admitted to killing Inquisition agents that were sent to help the Qunari. You, however, could leave if you want,” Nehn said evenly. If Bull wanted to remain with the Ben-Hassrath and the Qun, she wanted to give him a way to leave the Inquisition without bloodshed. He was too good of a friend for her not to offer the choice.

Cullen nodded toward some guards who disarmed and handcuffed Gatt. “I knew my life was forfeit, Hissrad,” Gatt called out. “I volunteered because I believe in you. I know that you’re not Tal-Vashoth. Show them that you’re not.”

“If its just the same to you, Boss, I think I’d rather stay,” Bull said turning away from Gatt to look steadily at Nehn.

She smiled broadly and signaled for the archers to stand down before leaning across the table and taking Bull’s hands in her own. “Thank you, Bull. You have no idea how much I appreciate your staying.”

“You and your Tal-Vashoth ally will receive no further aid or information from the Ben-Hassrath, Inquisitor,” Gatt hissed.

“That’s alright, Gatt. I’m more than satisfied with having Bull,” Nehn said and then added, “Take Gatt to the dungeons. I’ll judge him later today.”

Bull extended a hand to Cullen. “No hard feelings. I would have done the same although I don’t know if I would have had the balls not to let the arrows fly.”

Cullen shook Bull’s hand and said, “You can thank the Inquisitor for that. I’m not sure I would have either.”

Falon came over to his mother. “Mamae, are you alright?” he asked his face as pale as a sheet. Cullen nearly corrected him for addressing the Inquisitor out of turn, but the pride in Nehn’s face at her son’s concern for her stopped him.

“I’m fine, da’assan. Go back to your training. We’ll talk more over supper,” Nehn smiled. “Although you might remember to address me as Inquisitor when amongst your peers,” she added with a wink.

“Yes, Mam... Inquisitor,” Falon said before rushing back to his squad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A canon divergence with a canon-esque outcome. Bull chooses the Inquisition over the Qun. (Disclaimer: No Chargers were harmed in the writing of this storyline.)


	56. Chapter 56

Nehn’s legs were shaking so much that the carriage was rocking. Her anxiety had been ramping up as they grew nearer to Halamshiral where Celene’s ball would be held. Now that they were within an hour of arriving in town, Nehn was coming apart at the seams. “Inquisitor, could you please stop fidgeting?” Leliana snipped while touching Nehn’s leg with her hand.

“Sorry, I’m just nervous,” Nehn said while stilling her legs and beginning to gnaw on her fingernails. 

“Not your nails! We’ve spent weeks trying to grown them out!” Josephine pleaded.

“If I can’t fidget or bite my nails, what can I do?” Nehn huffed while starting to twirl her hair.

Cullen smirked when he saw Nehn moving from one tic to the next. She was adorable when agitated. Still her ever increasing anxiety was clearly making her miserable, so he asked, “What about casting your calming aura? Would that help?”

“When I’m this worked up, I could cast that until I depleted my mana, and I’d still be a bundle of nerves. Maybe I should just take a sleeping draught.”

“No, you don’t need to be seen arriving drugged or worse yet unconscious,” Leliana disagreed.

“Then unless one of you wants to hold my hands and reassure me the rest of the way there, I’m going to go back to fidgeting,” Nehn announced.

Cullen reached across the carriage aisle and took Nehn’s hands in his own while smiling warmly. “If that’s all you needed, you should have asked several miles back.”

Nehn visibly relaxed as his gloved thumbs moved over the tops of her hands. “Thank you,” she breathed. Leliana and Josephine exchanged shocked glances. Cullen was finally starting to act on his feelings rather than just pining for Nehn.

“Now perhaps we can discuss our strategy, Inquisitor,” Josephine said with clear aggravation. The ambassador’s temper had gotten progressively shorter and her words increasingly less tactful as Empress Celene’s ball approached. She desperately wanted the Inquisition to make a good showing but was worried that Nehn wouldn’t rise to the occasion.

“We will be spending the night at the vacation estate of the Comte de Mardis which is near the Winter Palace. Then tomorrow will be a day of beauty treatments preparing you for the ball that evening,” Josephine said while referring to her clipboard.

Nehn groaned. “If you keep plucking my eyebrows and cutting my hair, I’ll end up looking like Solas.”

Leliana giggled when she pictured Nehn bald. “Seeing you without hair would be quite a striking sight, Inquisitor. Have you seen the little hat our Fade expert has chosen to wear with his uniform?”

“No." _I avoid him like the Blight._ "Why do you ask?” Nehn questioned.

“Oh, I won’t ruin the surprise. Let’s just say that Dorian tried valiantly to sway Solas against wearing it,” Leliana said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Nehn smiled back and hoped that the hat would be every bit as ridiculous as she imagined it would be.

***********************  
The next day Josephine’s people had the women of the Inquisition up before dawn to begin primping for the ball. Nehn was incensed when she found out that the men were getting to sleep in if they so desired, but when a handsome, blond elven man with an Antivan accent announced he would be giving Nehn a massage she changed her tune. She was already stripped and laying underneath a thin sheet having her back rubbed when Leliana stormed into the room.

“Zevran, I asked you to come here to help - not to seduce the Inquisitor!” she said while folding her arms and staring daggers at the rogue.

“Leliana, the Inquisitor was so very tense. I thought it would be in everyone’s best interest if I helped her relax. You don’t mind do you, Lady Lavellan?” the wiley Antivan purred.

“No, I don’t mind in the least,” Nehn said at first and then sat upright clutching the sheet to her chest. “Wait - Zevran as in the assassin? We have got to get better security.”

“Tsk, tsk, Inquisitor. I am in charge of your security and whatever else suits your fancy,” Zevran said solicitously.

_Mythal’s mercy, he is sex personified,_ Nehn thought when she got a second look at the tanned Antivan with piercing green eyes. “Just a massage, please,” she added before laying back down.

“That’s what they all say at first, Inquisitor,” he replied while resuming rubbing her back.

“You’re incorrigible, Zevran. Just make sure she isn’t late for her hair and makeup,” Leliana said before silently gliding out the door.

Much to the Antivan’s dismay, Nehn resisted his advances but capitalized on his excellent abilities as a masseur. With rosy cheeks and a contented smile, she wandered a few minutes late into the room where servants were preparing everyone’s hair. Zevran trailed behind her praising her curvaceous rear and ruing her self-control.

“Leliana, can we keep him? I rather like the adoration and back rubs,” Nehn said while winking at Zevran.

“His contract with us is limited, Inquisitor, and it is becoming shorter the more he persists to act this way,” Leliana said while giving Zevran a cross look.

“When I took this assignment, I hadn’t seen Lady Lavellan. I thought the descriptions of her beauty were perhaps exaggerated, but if anything they underplayed her exotic allure,” Zevran answered while Leliana rolled her eyes and Cassandra made a disgusted noise. 

Nehn giggled then said, “He’s like a walking confidence booster in a hot body with a pretty face. Are you sure he can’t stay?”

“Yes,” Leliana, Josephine, and Cassandra said in unison. Nehn gave Zevran an apologetic look and waved goodbye.

“He’s hilarious,” Nehn said as she laid back to have her hair washed. “He started telling me how his mother was Dalish, and how our people held a special place in his heart. I think he’ll say anything to get someone in bed. I wonder if he’s any good.”

“He’s very good - especially when he’s being bad,” Leliana said with a crooked grin. “However, I think a certain person would take offense to your being together.”

“Actually, the idea of pissing off Solas makes sleeping with Zevran seem like a better idea,” Nehn retorted.

“Oh for Andraste’s sake,” Cassandra said yanking a towel out of her hairdresser’s hand and drying her hair herself. “She isn’t talking about Solas. She’s talking about Cullen. How you can be the only person in Skyhold that doesn’t recognize that is an absolute mystery.”

“The Seeker’s right,” Sera said while shooing her stylist away and cutting her own hair with a dagger. “Truth is Cully Wully is hung up on you, even though you took a screwing tour of Thedas with Elfy.”

“Cullen said we were just friends...” Nehn argued.

“Only if your definition of friend is someone that wants to see you naked and bent over his desk,” Sera countered.

Nehn looked to Cassandra who nodded in agreement.

“I wouldn’t put it so crudely, but Cullen is quite fond of you, Inquisitor,” Josephine said. 

“Why did no one tell me this before I started things with Solas?” Nehn questioned.

“We tried,” the four other women chimed in unison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, Zevran because why not?


	57. Chapter 57

Leliana stood in the middle of the comte’s dining hall in front of a map laid on his massive burl oak table. Nehn’s advisors and inner circle leaned over the table to see the map as the spymaster went over their plans one final time before everyone would leave for the ball.

The Nightingale looked toward Nehn who was wearing a dressing robe and had her hair in curlers. “The Inquisitor, when she finally gets ready,” Leliana said under her breath and then spoke louder, “will serve as our primary distraction tonight. The nobles will undoubtedly move wherever she does. As such, she will guide them away from areas that we wish to investigate. I’ve already put you into teams for this purpose. When given the signal, you will examine your assigned area for anything useful to the Inquisition - clues about the conspiracy against Celene, information useful for blackmail, and any knick knacks that might prove valuable to our cause.”

“Surely you aren’t suggesting that they loot the palace while looking for clues,” Cullen protested.

“Of course not, but there may be certain items we wouldn’t want falling into enemy hands. Look at it not as looting but safeguarding,” Leliana suggested.

Cullen shook his head but didn’t argue further. Leliana didn’t question his plans for Adamant, so he would try to give her the same courtesy at Halamshiral. She understood the Game and its implications much better than he ever could or would want to. It all seemed like a bunch of cloak and dagger frivolity to him. If Celene’s life was endangered, they should tell her to call off the ball and be done with it.

Leliana continued her briefing, “There is another matter that has come to my attention. The Empress has taken an apostate as an arcane advisor. I know this woman. There is nothing she wouldn’t do to achieve her goals.”

Zevran interrupted Leliana, “Does this mage temptress have a name, Leliana?” He wore a knowing smile as he asked the question as if he already knew the answer.

“Morrigan. You’ll no doubt remember her from our time traveling together during the Fifth Blight,” was Leliana’s curt response.

“Tsk, tsk, Leliana. You can’t still be bearing a grudge from her stealing Tabris away from you. The Hero of Ferelden is a remarkable man, but that was ten years ago,” Zevran chided.

“So you don’t think this Morrigan is dangerous?” Nehn asked Zevran.

“Oh, I never said that. She is a powerful sorceress trained by her mother Flemeth - the witch of the wilds. Morrigan is quite dangerous... and spectacularly beautiful,” Zevran recounted wistfully. “Try as I might, I could never seduce her. Perhaps tonight will be different...”

“She is dangerous, cunning, and utterly ruthless,” Leliana hissed.

“Much like another lovely woman who fought alongside us,” Zevran rejoined.

Leliana’s eyes narrowed, but Zevran didn’t flinch. In fact, he laughed at her anger. “Come now, Nightingale, you’ve had many opportunities to kill me. If you were going to end me, you would have done so long ago. Let us return to your plan. I promise not to interrupt again... unless needed of course. One must always leave themselves an out when dealing with a woman as striking and intelligent as you.”

“Are you sure we can’t keep him with the Inquisition?” Nehn asked Josephine who was standing next to her. The ambassador merely rolled her eyes.

“Cole and Dorian, I would like you to investigate Morrigan’s study. It is located in the palace library. Cole you should be able to use this trellis to access the area. I trust that you can do so without being detected. Dorian, you can wait at the library’s entrance here for Cole to admit you. Search the area thoroughly, and report what you have found to me and the Inquisitor,” Leliana said while pointing to the map.

“Varric, I want you to stay here near the smoking gallery. Most of the Council of Heralds will be there as it is an exclusive area for VIPs. Keep them entertained, and more importantly away from the festivities as much as possible. That area will be well guarded by both Orleasian and Inquisition forces, so any threats against their lives will be minimized.”

“You want me to shoot the shit in the safest part of the palace, Nightingale? I can handle that assignment,” Varric teased.

Leliana continued going over her plan and its contingencies for another half hour and then added, “Of course, this is all subject to change once we get to the Palace. Pay attention to the Inquisitor and myself. We will keep you apprised of any alterations. Now finish getting dressed, and we’ll depart within the hour.”

Zevran followed Nehn back to her room. When she hesitated before opening the door, he said, “I am an utter gentleman. I will not watch you get dressed... that is unless you want me to.”

Nehn started laughing so hard she snorted. “I’m beginning to wonder if Leliana hired you to distract me more than protect me, Zevran. This entire affair has made me a bundle of nerves. In any case, you can come inside and keep me company while I get ready. I’ll tell you when to close your eyes.”

“I shall remain at your side throughout the night, Lady Lavellan - to protect, to distract, or to do whatever else you desire,” Zevran oozed as he entered her room.

Nehn had just finished dressing and had wrapped herself in a blue velvet cloak lined with silk to keep away the chill when someone knocked on her door. Zevran, who had been lounging in a chair and twirling his daggers, stood and answered the door. Solas looked suprised and irritated when the blond elf greeted him.

“Ah, Solas - correct? How may I help you? The Inquisitor is nearly ready to depart,” Zevran said nonchalantly.

“I would like a word with the Inquisitor - alone,” Solas answered forcefully.

“You see that depends...” Zevran answered, “On whether the lady desires that.”

“It’s fine, Zevran. You can wait outside,” Nehn said while Solas pushed past the other elf with a sneer. Zevran shrugged and walked outside unfazed.

Nehn’s mouth twitched when she saw Solas. He was wearing a helmet wrapped in red silk to match his uniform. It almost looked attractive except the helmet had a spike poking out of the top. She was going to have to fight herself to keep from chuckling whenever she saw him.

“Solas... the hat. You might want to rethink it. I’m afraid that I’m going to start laughing in the middle of the ball envisioning tossing rings around that spike,” Nehn said.

“If that’s what it would take to see you smile again when you look at me, it would be a small price to pay,” Solas said quietly then held a box out toward her while speaking more authoritatively. “Your jewelry for the night. Sionn is an exceptional craftsman. He executed my vision flawlessly.”

Nehn’s heart twisted at Solas words, and she bit her lip as she took the box. “Thank you again, Solas, for the dress and this. I appreciate it.” 

“Certainly, Inquisitor. I shall leave you to your preparations,” Solas responded before turning to leave.

Zevran came back into the room to find Nehn crying as she looked at the contents of the box. “I know that I was away for a time, Lady Lavellan, but you needn’t mourn my absence because I’ve returned,” he joked.

Nehn snickered despite her melancholy. “Zevran, are you ever serious?”

“Not if I can avoid it. Life will be what it is. The choice to laugh or cry is ours, however. Come now. Let’s dry your tears and share a few dirty jokes. I should like to see if I can get you to make that delightful snort again before we depart.”

As Nehn listened to Zevran tell bawdy jokes, she took the jewelry out of the box and examined it. There were only two items in the box, but they were both exquisite. One was a silver tiara that echoed the pattern of Sylaise’s flames and Nehn’s vallaslin. On the back of the tiara, the phrase, “Burn brightly like the stars in the desert sky,” was inscribed in elven. _Solas, you ass. How do you manage to know just how to get to me?_ she thought as she remembered their last night together as a couple. Placing the tiara on her head and checking herself in the mirror, she was dumbstruck by her resemblance to the statues of Sylaise that she had encountered in ruins on the Exalted Plains. She nearly took the tiara off for fear of blasphemy but decided to leave it on as a tribute to her patron instead.

The second piece of jewelry was an elaborate silver band to be wrapped around her upper arm. The coiled silver was etched and engraved with intricate patterns of symbols, plants, and animals sacred to elves - the sun, the moons, sylvanwood branches, ironbark leaves, owls, hares, halla, and ravens. In addition to those traditional symbols, a single wolf resting beside a fire was on the center of the band. Wolves weren’t typically included in Dalish jewelry out of fear of angering Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf. Nehn knew the wolf represented Solas, with his wolf bone necklace, not the betrayer god just as she recognized herself as the flame. _You brilliant, abominable man,_ she thought as she slid the band up her bare arm.

Zevran noticed Nehn’s mood becoming bluer, so he amped up his joking and flirting. Soon she was giggling at his over-the-top efforts having pushed the jewelry and its symbolism to the back of her mind as she chose to enjoy the easy company of the Antivan elf instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even more Zevran because I'm seriously still in love with that elf from DAO.
> 
> Also slight canon divergence as Nehn won't be clamboring up trellises or digging around for halla statues. Her buddies will be managing the spying while she plays the Game.


	58. Chapter 58

Zevran held out his hand for Nehn to climb into the carriage. Her cheeks were pink from laughing at his never-ending innuendos. She had never met a man capable of alluding to sex in so many different ways without becoming intimidating or overly crass. If Leliana’s plan for hiring him was to keep her relaxed for the ball, the spymaster was brilliant. He was the perfect distraction wrapped in a very attractive package.

Just as Nehn scooted across the carriage seat, she saw another handsome man approaching. Cullen always looked good, but out of his typical heavy armor and in a perfectly tailored formal uniform, he looked jaw-dropping. Nehn leaned over for a better view and got caught staring.

“Your Commander is quite breathtaking -yes? I met him many years ago under considerably less desirable circumstances. It pleases me to see that he seems to have recovered,” Zevran commented as he hopped athletically into the carriage.

“You helped rescue him from Kinloch Hold?” Nehn asked.

“Along with the Warden, his dog, and Wynne. I would tell the tale, but it seems you already know it. It is a pity that you will never get to meet Wynne. She was an extraordinary woman with magical bosoms,” Zevran sighed.

“Magical bosoms?” Nehn asked almost afraid of the answer.

“Truly... I have never seen their like on a woman of any age,” Zevran mourned. 

As Zevran finished his reverie for Wynne’s breasts, the carriage tilted a bit as another passenger joined them. “Leliana and Josephine’s dresses are so enormous there isn’t room for me in their carriage. I thought I might ride with you instead,” Cullen said while sitting beside Nehn. 

She blushed and fiddled with her velvet cape. “I’d like that very much.”

Zevran looked between the two of them and stood up. “The evening is too beautiful to be cooped up inside. If you’ll allow it, Lady Lavellan, I shall go sit beside the driver and see what news he has to share.”

Nehn smiled brightly and said, “Certainly, Zev. Enjoy yourself.”

Cullen watched Zevran exit and then turned to Nehn. “He’s quite the character.”

“He is very fun to be around, but I rather prefer my current company,” Nehn flirted and tried to gauge Cullen’s response. She still wasn’t convinced her girlfriends were right about his feelings for her. When she saw the smirk that blossomed on Cullen’s face at her words, her doubts were put to rest. 

Ever the smooth operator, Nehn said the first thing that popped into her mind, “You look extra gorgeous tonight, Commander,” and then had to fight the urge to crawl underneath the carriage seat.

Cullen chuckled. “You look _extra_ gorgeous tonight as well, Inquisitor. I like how you have your hair especially.”

Nehn had to think for a moment how she had her hair fixed she was so disoriented by looking at Cullen’s golden brown eyes. She reached up to touch it and finally recalled that it had been styled into a up do which was framed by her tiara. “Thank you, I had help with it.”

Flirting with Cullen was making her feel too fluttery to think straight, so Nehn stared out the carriage window to collect herself. Unfortunately, she started to think about their mission instead and a different type of anxiety washed over her. “I’m dreading this ball more than the siege at Adamant,” she said finally reestablishing eye contact with Cullen. 

“If it is any consolation, you’re not alone. I’d rather face legions of demons than a roomful of Orleasian nobility any day,” Cullen concurred then patted Nehn’s leg reassuringly. “Remember this will only last a few hours. Celene isn’t going to make everyone permanent houseguests. By dawn, we’ll be away from the palace and the Game.”

“That actually helps a lot,” Nehn replied feeling much calmer. Whatever happened, whatever missteps she made the ball did have a definite ending point. 

One of the carriage’s wheels hit a pothole, and Nehn fell off the seat into the carriage floor. “Thank goodness my parents didn’t name me Grace,” she joked and scooted back into place.

Cullen put an arm around her and said, “Just in case there are more potholes.” Nehn bit her lip and leaned against him slightly. _Mythal’s mercy, he’s built like a god, and he smells delicious. Like cookies._

“You smell like sugar cookies,” Nehn cooed making her second smooth statement of the evening.

Cullen looked sheepish and took his arm from around Nehn. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a small bundle wrapped in a handkerchief. “I snuck a few from the kitchens before leaving,” he admitted. Unwrapping his secret stash, he offered Nehn one.

“Keeping a covert cookie cache, you should be ashamed, Commander,” Nehn teased as she took the treat. Then with a coy smile she added, “Shouldn’t you put your arm back around me? There might be more potholes, you know.” 

“Oh right, of course,” Cullen said as he happily complied. The two rode in contented silence the rest of the way while Cullen intermittently patted Nehn’s shoulder, and Nehn nibbled her cookie.

As the carriage neared the front gates of the palace, Nehn felt nauseated and faint. Cullen noticed her distress and said, “Let’s make a game of the Game and its players. Orleasians are predictable and have little respect for Fereldens or elves. We’ll likely spend much of the night listening to insults about our heritage as well as fending off unwanted advances.”

“I’m failing to see how pointing this out is meant to be helpful, Cullen,” Nehn said tensely.

“We’ll have a competition,” Cullen said. “You keep track of the insults and advances you endure, and I’ll do the same. The one with the most at the end of the night wins.”

“What’s the prize?” Nehn asked. Her competitive streak was already making her wish for the Orleasians to be especially rude to her that night.

Cullen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “If I win, you’ll stop wearing your beige leathers around Skyhold.”

Nehn’s eyes grew wide. “That’s my lucky outfit. I’ve finally gotten the leather broken in to where it feels like a second skin.”

“That outfit fits like a second skin also,” Cullen noted. “I’m tired of watching people’s reactions to it.”

“Interesting. That sounds a bit ... jealous, but I’ll agree to give up the leathers should I lose. Should I win, however, your red mantle with the fluffy collar is mine,” Nehn said while deviously arching an eyebrow.

“But that’s my favorite coat,” Cullen protested then continued with smug reassurance, “You’re on. I’ll expect those leathers on my desk the morning after we return to Skyhold.”

“Oh, those leathers will be on your desk. I’ll just be wearing them when I come to pick up my new coat,” Nehn challenged.

“Bring it, Lavellan. You’re going down,” Cullen said with a crooked grin as the carriage stopped in front of the Winter Palace.


	59. Chapter 59

Nehn tripped on her cape as she stepped out of the carriage and went tumbling forward. Fortunately, Zevran and Cullen’s quick reflexes kicked in, and they each grabbed one of her arms and deposited her safely on the ground. “It appears that carriage thresholds are particularly dangerous to mages,” Zevran noted. “One took out a mark before I could do the job myself. The Crows were pleased with how I made her death look like an accident. Of course, I never corrected their assumption about how she died. The assignment was completed, and all parties were satisfied - except the mage that is.”

Shaking her head at Zevran’s story and trying to avoid Josephine’s glare at her undignified entrance, Nehn smoothed her cape and walked with her head held high toward Duke Gaspard who had arranged for the Inquisition to be admitted to the event. The Duke was more straight-forward than most Orleasians and Nehn found herself liking him until he made a snide comment about elves. _Thank you for revealing yourself, Gaspard._

“Well, we can’t have elves running around acting dodgy,” Nehn quipped and Gaspard agreed fully unaware of how he had made Nehn privy to his racism and earned her mistrust.

Gaspard excused himself telling Nehn that he would meet her outside the ballroom later. She curtsied and smiled as he left and then looked around for Cullen. Catching his eye, she held up her index finger to let him know she had already scored a point in their game. He held up two fingers and pointed to the women crowding around him already. Nehn’s mouth twisted in annoyance. She wasn’t about to lose her lucky leathers.

Zevran leaned forward and whispered to Nehn. “You did well with Gaspard. People like him always underestimate people like us. It makes killing them almost too easy. Should you so desire, I can always employ my other talents.”

“That won’t be necessary, Zevran. I have a feeling Gaspard will tie his own noose tonight,” Nehn whispered.

“And you will graciously provide him the rope to do so,” Zevran said with a sly smile. “You are wonderfully subtle. Have you ever considered becoming an assassin? The Crows have several mages within their ranks.”

“I thought you were on bad terms with the Crows.”

“We’re like old lovers. We hate each other. We love each other. We try to kill each other... that sort of thing,” Zevran explained and Nehn found herself laughing at the analogy.

“It sounds a bit like my relationship with Solas - excluding the killing each other part.”

Nehn stayed out in the courtyard for a bit distracting nobles and eavesdropping on their conversations while Sera and Varric broke into storerooms accessible from the gardens. When they signaled they had finished their reconnaisance, Nehn entered the palace proper. Josephine was waiting for Nehn her face tight with worry. The ambassador was dressed in an elaborate canary yellow gown with a red sash running across the bodice. Her enormous hoop skirt swished with her every move and her neck was adorned with a necklace encrusted with spinel and lapis lazuli.

“Inquisitor, I must remind you to take tonight seriously. Fortunately, few saw you stumble out of the carriage, but you must make sure to present a dignified face for the Inquisition,” Josephine chastised.

“Josie, it isn’t as if I fell out of the carriage on purpose. I’ll try my best not to embarrass you or the Inquisition. Smile, enjoy yourself. It’s all under control,” Nehn reassured.

“Andraste preserve us,” Josephine whispered as she flounced away her skirts making a distinct susurrus with each step.

“May I take your cape, my lady?” one of the attendants asked Nehn. She wanted to decline. Her dress fit her beautifully, but it was completely different from what everyone else was wearing. _I hope Solas was right about playing up my elven heritage,_ she thought as the attendant slid her cape from her shoulders.

From her companions’ reactions when her cape was removed, Nehn was certain that she would at least make an impression on everyone at the ball. The cream organza dress was cut similarly to the prototype the seamstress had her try on at Skyhold with a single exposed shoulder and gently draping fabric. But unlike its plain predecessor, this dress was embroidered elaborately along the bottom with swirling red, orange, and yellow threads echoing Sylaise’s flames. Not coincidentally, Nehn’s attire would conjure another image in the minds of the Orleasians - that of Andraste on her pyre.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen exclaimed at the sight of Nehn.

“I have to agree with my templar friend here. That dress is blasphemously beautiful,” Dorian stated and then turned to Solas. “I would have never guessed you had it in you to design something so spectacular given your normal attire.”

Solas rejoined, “Speak up, Dorian. I can’t hear you over your outfit.” Unlike the rest of the Inquisition’s men (and Cassandra who refused to wear a dress), Dorian had opted not to wear a uniform but had donned flashy Tevinter formalwear for the night. Dorian folded his arms at Solas’ slight and raised his nose in the air before turning away with a flourish.

After that interchange, Nehn looked suspiciously at the spiked helmet Solas was still wearing. Acknowledging her gaze, Solas made a circle with his fingers and placed his hand around the spike referencing her ring toss remark. Nehn laughed out loud at his self-deprecation and then felt a sense of relief. It made her happy to share something other than awkward silence and angry glares with Solas again.

As her escort and bodyguard, Zevran offered Nehn his arm, and they ascended the stairs in the palace vestibule together. Before entering the ballroom, Cullen stopped by Nehn to inform her that he had scored four points thus far. Nehn grinned when she said she was at six. “That coat is mine, Commander.”

“The night is young, Inquisitor. Don’t get cocky,” Cullen threw back.

“I’m rather enjoying this competition between you, although I find the prizes to be much too bland,” Zevran said as he led Nehn toward a group of dignitaries she was to meet.

“Too bland? What would you have requested, Zev?”

“Oh, something much more fun - where no one actually loses. Such as the winner gets to be on top the next time you make love,” Zevran suggested.

“Elgar’Nan! We haven’t even kissed,” Nehn objected in a hoarse whisper.

“Ah well, the night is young. I’m sure that could be remedied with very little effort on your part. But please, take things as slowly as you like. It is entertaining to watch you circle each other. I only wonder who will make the first move.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Nehn seethed.

“Ah, yes - I’m often told this. It is part of my charm,” Zevran smirked.

***********************  
Josephine was convinced she was witnessing a miracle. Nehn was not only managing to maintain the Inquisition’s status, she was charming her way into the good graces of nearly every noble she met. “I would have never thought it possible,” she commented to Solas who was standing nearby watching Nehn work the room.

“Soon after meeting her, I learned never to underestimate her ability to adapt. I am taken aback, however, by how quickly she took to courtly intrigue. Speaking of which, that’s my signal to check in with Leliana. Enjoy the evening, Ambassador. It seems your preparations have paid off,” Solas said before gliding toward the spymaster.

Leliana was wearing an gray ombre ballgown which called to mind her moniker of “Nightingale” and made a striking contrast with her red hair and pale complexion. The dress revealed a daring amount of cleavage but its subdued color scheme kept it from seeming vulgar. She had called Solas, Sera, and Zevran to her side for the first change in plans for the evening.

“Morrigan noticed our activities in her study and approached the Inquisitor about them. It appears that she is also trying to protect Celene and fought off an attack earlier tonight,” Leliana began.

Zevran while not interrupting took on an distinct I-told-you-so look at the mention of Morrigan’s loyalty to her new employer.

Leliana glared at him and continued, “Elven servants have also warned the Inquisitor that something is amiss. I want the three of you to pose as some of the help and investigate their quarters. Morrigan provided this key which should allow access to the servants’ areas.”

“Why do we have to act like elves?” Sera asked with annoyance.

“I’m amazed that this hasn’t come to your attention earlier, my dear Sera, but you are an elf,” Zevran explained while Solas fought hard not to laugh.

“Yeah, well, I’m not elfy,” Sera argued.

“Truer words were never spoken,” Solas said before asking Leliana for more details about their mission.

“Is Inky coming, too?” Sera asked.

“Too many eyes are on the Inquisitor for her to get away, but she told me that she wishes she could join you. Even though she is playing it brilliantly, she doesn’t appear to enjoy the Game,” Leliana sighed before handing the key to Zevran. “Go now. I’ll make sure to have someone guard the Inquisitor in your absence.”

“I would suggest your Commander,” Zevran offered. “He won’t take his eyes off her in any event.”

Solas’ eyes narrowed at Zevran’s suggestion something the younger elf did not fail to notice. Once Leliana had left, Zevran questioned Solas about his intentions toward Nehn. “Showing up this afternoon with jewelry - one might think you were trying to win her back. My only question would be have you changed what drove you apart in the first place?”

“I hardly see how any of that is your business,” Solas snarled.

“That’s odd because I fail to see how her current company is any of yours. In any event, time is wasting. Let us look into this problem with the elves and return to dancing and drinking.”

********************

Cullen appeared at Nehn’s elbow a short time later. “I’ve been instructed to assume the role of guard and escort for the moment. Unfortunately, I’m unsure of where I’m to be directing you. I know Leliana and Josephine had your every move for the night planned.”

“What a pity! I guess I’ll just have to take some time to actually enjoy the ball for awhile. Care to dance, Commander?” Nehn asked.

“No thank you,” Cullen said hastily, and Nehn’s face fell. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,” he corrected. “It’s just I’m a terrible dancer. I’m afraid I’d embarrass us both, and Josephine would have my head.”

Nehn seemed content with his explanation and said, “Well, then we should head to the gardens. My bag is full of these ridiculous caprice coins. Josie tells me I’m to throw them in a fountain. It’s a vulgar display of wealth, but my purse is starting to get heavy. I’m afraid I might clock the next noble that grabs my rear with it and cause an incident.”

“What is it with these people? They won’t leave my rear alone either,” Cullen confided. 

Nehn glanced behind him and then said admiringly, “Well, I can see why,” which left Cullen red-faced and speechless until they reached the garden.

Dorian was in the garden, sipping on wine, and comparing the event to ones in Tevinter. He was disappointed with the paltry number of assassination attempts and hors d’oeuvres. The only thing that had impressed him was a ham that he claimed tasted of despair.

“Do you want to help me unload these?” Nehn asked Dorian opening her purse which was brimming with the golden coins.

“Caprice coins - how quaint. We abandoned such things centuries ago in Tevinter. I’ll toss one for the experience, but I’ll let you and Cullen handle the rest. Just don’t go dumping them in all at once like a commoner emptying a chamber pot.”

Nehn looked disappointed because that had been her idea for getting rid of the coins. She wanted to make it back to the dessert table to see if they had put out more petit fours before Zevran returned and encouraged her to resume her duties.

She passed a coin to Dorian who gracefully tossed it into the fountain before wandering off in search of a better vintage of wine. 

“I guess we’ll have to get rid of these ourselves,” Nehn said to Cullen apologetically. “Look - the bottom of the fountain has a mosaic of a woman. I bet I can get a coin closer to her belly button than you.”

“Not a chance,” Cullen said while taking a handful of coins. “Alright, your toss.”

Nehn aimed carefully and threw her coin. The water currents pushed it away from its intended target, and it landed on the sunken woman’s sternum. “Fenedhis,” Nehn cursed.

Cullen relied on his experience calibrating trebuchets to adjust for the water’s circulation and then tossed his coin. “Bullseye!” he exclaimed when the coin landed directly on top of the mosaic’s tile navel.

“Beginner’s luck,” Nehn countered. “Over the shoulder and on her right eye,” she said calling her shot. Nehn tossed her coin and watched it land just off its target. She muttered a quick force spell, and it slid in place.

“You cheated!” Cullen yelped.

“We never said that magic was excluded,” Nehn pointed out and Cullen crossed his arms. “Fine, I’ll throw another coin,” Nehn exhaled. Cullen and Nehn continued until her purse was emptied. In the end, Cullen edged Nehn out by two coins. He held his hands up in celebration of his victory and then bowed as if he had an audience.

“You’re not a very gracious winner,” she sulked.

“And you’ll trip on your lower lip if you pout over your loss any more,” Cullen teased. “Which reminds me, what’s your current score in our other game?”

“Twenty five, and you?”

Cullen growled a bit. “Eighteen. I should have had you spot me some points.”

“No way we’re changing the rules now. I’m going to enjoy my new coat. I can’t quite decide whether to use it as a lap blanket or a wall hanging. What do you think?”

“I think I’ve got to figure out a way to somehow pull out a win,” Cullen said as he pictured his beloved mantle hanging on Nehn’s wall like a hunting trophy.


	60. Chapter 60

Solas and Zevran approached Nehn with disturbing news from their time posing as servants in the palace basement. Venatori were throughout the palace and had murdered many elven servants. In addition, a member of the Council of Heralds had been murdered with a dagger bearing Gaspard’s seal.

“And all these nobles can think about is complaining their drinks aren’t being served quickly enough,” Nehn said through clenched teeth. She hated how Orleasians treated their elven servants hardly better than slaves.

“We happened upon Ambassador Briala during our investigation,” Zevran commented. “She is interested in speaking with you. I would not recommend you do so alone, however. She is a well-trained rogue in addition to a veteran player of the Game.”

“Do you think she was perhaps trying to frame Gaspard for the dignitary’s murder?” Nehn questioned.

“Perhaps, although I’m inclined to think it was the Venatori,” Solas surmised. “Briala is too subtle to do something so obvious.”

“Solas, could you update Leliana? Zevran, let’s go speak with Briala. I’m interested in her take on the evening’s events,” Nehn said while keeping her voice low to avoid being overheard.

Zevran led Nehn to a balcony where Briala stood waiting, her face covered by a mask that left only her mouth visible. He stood beside Nehn with his daggers at the ready.

“Ambassador Briala, I’m glad to make your acquaintance. My associate tells me that you have something you’d like to discuss,” Nehn said while keeping her face as neutral as possible. 

“Inquisitor, I’m surprised that a Dalish elf would make time to speak with a flat ear. Perhaps I’ve misjudged you. I know that you came here with Gaspard, but I do not believe you are allied with him. I would ask that you consider what an alliance with the elves of Orlais could bring to the Inquisition. I have an entire network of spies that would be at your disposal should you help position me near the throne and make the person sitting on it aware of your support,” Briala said while carefully studying Nehn’s reaction to her words and growing frustrated by the lack of tells shown by the Inquisitor.

“I will consider your offer, Briala. I wonder, though, whose ear you think would receive your words better. You are more acquainted with Celene and Gaspard than I am,” Nehn questioned trying to tease out Briala’s loyalties.

“It matters not. The Civil War has weakened Orlais and its ruler. The Inquisition is the true power in Thedas whoever has its support will make the decisions for Orlais,” Briala answered.

“I think you perhaps overestimate the Inquisition’s influence over as well as concern for Orleasian politics. Tell me, Briala, why should I trust you beyond our shared heritage?” Nehn pressed.

Briala smiled for the first time during her meeting with Nehn. “You play the Game well, Inquisitor. I would think you were raised at court rather than in the wilderness. Those that are loyal to me want to see the lives of elves improved in Thedas. If you share a similar goal, they will support you as well.”

Nehn said nothing more but bowed her head slightly before leaving Briala. When they had moved away from her earshot, Nehn asked Zevran for his opinion.

“My opinion is that I am glad that I do not have to decide such things. Cullen told me that I was to take you by the dessert table. This obsession Orleasians have with tiny cakes - I do not understand it. Perhaps you can explain it to me.”

“Three words Zevran - _la petite mort_. It’s a chocolate cake with raspberry filling covered with dark chocolate icing, and it is almost as good as the other _little death_ ,” Nehn said with a sly grin.

“Now this is something I must try - a sex confection,” Zevran said suavely as he offered his arm to Nehn.

Unfortunately, Nehn didn’t make it to the dessert table as Grand Duchess Florianne, sister to Grand Duke Gaspard and co-host to the ball, asked for Nehn to join her on the dance floor. _I wonder who leads when two women dance,_ Nehn thought as she followed the haughty noble with a tightly cropped blond coif to the center of the ballroom floor. As Florianne held up her hands, Nehn’s question about who would lead was answered. The Grand Duchess expected her to do so. _Well, shit..._

Not only did Florianne demand Nehn lead the dance, she engaged Nehn in a pointed conversation about Celene, Gaspard, and the future of Orlais as they twirled around the dance floor. Nehn got the distinct impression that there was more to Florianne than the Inquisition had initially suspected. The Duchess was ambitious and manipulative, and while their dance ended with the crowd’s roaring approval Nehn felt ill-at-ease beside the woman.

Florianne handed Nehn a key to the royal chambers and said that she would find a mercenary her brother Gaspard had hired to help overthrow Celene there. Nehn didn’t trust Florianne, but she thanked the Duchess for her assistance and went to find her advisors. After relating what Florianne had said as well as her suspicions that the Duchess was not trustworthy, Nehn asked her advisors’ opinions on how to proceed.

Josephine argued that they came to the ball to protect Celene and should do so. Cullen advocated supporting Gaspard as long as the Grand Duke wasn’t implicated in trying to kill Celene. Leliana wanted to see Briala assume a position of influence. All three advisors agreed that the leadership of Orlais had to be decided that night. _So no pressure ... just pick the ruler for the most powerful nation in southern Thedas and make sure you aren’t accidentally putting Corypheus’ puppet on the throne,_ Nehn thought as she walked away from her advisors and felt a tremendous headache building. 

Nehn sent Cassandra, Bull, Zevran, and Dorian to investigate the royal quarters while she went to speak with the one person that she thought capable of teasing out the mess - Solas. She found him leaning against a pillar looking completely at ease and well amused. _Why am I not surprised that he’s eating this up?_

“I do adore the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex that permeates these events,” he enthused as Nehn approached. _Why wouldn’t you?_ she thought. _You adore games, and this is one of the biggest there is._

“I’d ask when you’ve spent time at court before, but I have a feeling your answer would be purposefully vague. In any event, I need your help,” Nehn said with consternation. She hated needing Solas for anything - much less deciding the fate of a nation. “Follow me,” she ordered as she guided him to a trophy room she had lured guards away from earlier that night.

Once they were inside and she’d secured the door, Nehn described what she knew of the situation and asked for Solas’ advice on choosing a leader. The Inquisition had enough influence and blackmail to support any candidate. She just didn’t know who to trust.

“The simple answer is that you can trust none of them. You need only decide who will be easiest for you to control and make sure that he or she ends up in power,” Solas answered evenly.

“That means I will either have to allow an assassination or support the execution of Celene’s adversaries,” Nehn replied with distress.

“Don’t delude yourself into thinking any of them are innocents. They all have a great deal of blood on their hands. They knew the stakes when they chose to play the Game, da’len,” Solas reminded Nehn using the diminutive he had favored when they first became friends.

Nehn sighed and leaned against a desk in the room. She knew he was right, but she hated making decisions that felt like they belonged to the gods. As she was looking down at the floor and collecting her thoughts, Solas had stepped closer to her.

“Do you realize this is the most we’ve spoken since Adamant?” he asked while staring at her intently. 

Nehn glanced up suddenly aware of his proximity, his smell, his magic. _Creators help me,_ she thought as she felt herself getting lost in him again. She cleared her throat but didn’t respond.

“I’ve missed you,” he said quietly and then put a hand on her cheek. “Can you truly say you haven’t missed me?”

Nehn leaned against his hand, closed her eyes, and reveled in his touch. “Of course, I can’t,” she finally whispered before opening her eyes and moving away from him. “Does this mean you’re ready to share the truth with me?”

“I can’t. Not now at least,” he answered with his eyes pleading for her to understand.

Nehn exhaled and shook her head. “Then nothing has changed, Solas. I’m sorry.” Nehn started toward the door and then stopped after turning the lock. “You’ll always hold a piece of my heart. Take care of it and yourself,” Nehn said before opening the door, blinking away the tears that were forming in her eyes, and rejoining the ball.

Bull raced up to her. “We’ve been looking all over for you, Boss. There’s a problem.”

_Of course there is. I absolutely hate Orlais._ “What is it, Bull?” Nehn asked trying to sound patient.

“You know that distinctive popping and buzzing we hear when we get near a rift?” Bull began.

_For fuck’s sake, you have to be kidding me._ “You think there’s a rift in the palace?” Nehn asked incredulously.

“Pretty sure of it, Boss. Come with me,” he urged.

When Nehn reached the royal wing, she changed into some light armor and grabbed a staff that Leliana’s agents had snuck into the palace in case of emergency. _And the night was going so nicely until it all went to the Void,_ she thought as she tossed her tiara, armband, and fancy dress aside. _I bet Cullen has been racking up points while I’ve dealt with this gods forsaken bullshit. If I lose my lucky leathers..._

“Pardon me for saying so, but you seem a bit agitated, Lady Lavellan,” Zevran commented.

“That’s the understatement of the century, Zev. I just want this night to be over,” Nehn said before kicking open the door that led to where the popping sounds were emanating. There was a stable rift, several Venatori, a cursing and bound Ferelden mercenary, and an exuberant Florianne on the other side of the door. The Grand Duchess gleefully monologued about her alliance with Corypheus and then ordered Nehn and her companions killed.

Nehn quickly considered her options and opened the rift to create a distraction. As demons attacked both the Venatori and Nehn’s party, she directed her friends to take out Florianne’s men first and then deal with the demons. The battle was bloody but quick, and Nehn raised her arm to seal the rift.

“We are ridiculously awesome!” Zevran shouted at their victory. His enthusiasm improved Nehn’s mood, and she chuckled as she untethered the mercenary who explained how Gaspard had hired his company to help overthrow Celene. Nehn liked the man’s moxie, and she invited him to join the Inquisition pointing out that she was a much more reasonable as well as better paying employer. He agreed and also offered to testify against Gaspard if necessary.

All except one door was barred leading from the courtyard where they’d dealt with the rift. Nehn screamed and stomped her feet. She was completely fed up with the bullshit of the Winter Palace.

“She’s rather adorable when angry. Have you noticed this?” Zevran asked no one in particular.

“Yeah, it’s real cute until things start randomly catching fire,” Bull threw back. “Hey, Boss, you might want to put a lid on it. We’ve probably got more Venatori to face, and the threat against Celene still remains.”

Nehn gave Bull the elven version of the bird but regained control of her temper. “Fine, let’s find a way back to the ballroom.” 

Just as Bull had predicted, they encountered several other Venatori before finally reaching the ballroom. Nehn had sustained a dagger cut to her bad shoulder. _Why is it always this shoulder?_ Nehn thought as she guzzled a healing potion and applied pressure to the wound. Finally, her team found their way back to the ballroom and stumbled in covered in blood and demon ichor. _So much for keeping up appearances. Sorry, Josie._

Cullen hurried over to Nehn his face pale with concern. “Are you okay? The attack is liable to happen at any minute. We have to get our people in place,” he said in a rush.

Nehn sighed. “I’ll handle it in a second. The more important question is what’s your score?”

“You can’t be serious...” Cullen started and then saw that Nehn, although bloodied and exhausted with the fate of Orlais held in her hands, was absolutely serious. “Twenty seven," he reported. Nehn didn’t respond but went storming toward Florianne. _That bitch cost me my lucky leathers,_ she seethed. _She’s going down._

Nehn skillfully revealed Florianne’s plot against Celene, who quickly ordered the Grand Duchess arrested. Celene wanted to discuss what should become of Gaspard and Briala immediately, but Nehn objected. “I’m covered in blood and demon gore. I’ll bathe and eat something first.”

The Empress looked taken aback by Nehn not immediately complying with her request, but she understood Nehn’s implied message _You aren’t in charge here. I am._ The Empress bowed her head and said, “Of course, you deserve a respite after your efforts on my behalf. Shall we see you in a half hour?”

“I’d say I’ll need at least an hour and about a half dozen of those tiny cakes,” Nehn responded before turning away and heading back to the royal quarters to bathe _The Dread Wolf can have these blasted Orleasians and their Game,_ Nehn thought as she scrubbed herself clean while Zevran kept watch only occasionally glancing over his shoulder to check out Nehn. 

Once Nehn had bathed and dressed in her formal attire again, Zevran brought a full dozen petit fours in her favorite flavors. _I lost my leathers, but I at least got dessert._ Nehn shared the treats with Zevran who agreed they were delectable and said that he thought the only way to improve their taste would be to eat them nude.

“Zevran, I’ll tell you the same thing I tell Bull. It’s never happening,” Nehn replied.

“Many say such things, but few are actually able to resist me. I am ridiculously handsome as well as charming,” Zevran responded with a twinkle in his eye. Nehn once again laughed so hard she snorted at his dogged determination.

After finishing her dessert course, Nehn told Celene of Gaspard’s conspiracy but painted Briala in a more positive light. “What you do with Gaspard is your choice, but I would suggest exile for Briala,” Nehn concluded. Nehn then turned toward the cunning elf and a look of understanding passed between them. Nehn had seen that Briala’s life was spared. She was now in the Inquisition’s debt.

Celene knew she had no choice but to agree. “Let us make the announcement to the court of our victory,” the Empress said and retreated back into the ballroom to rally her nation’s support.

Later than night, Nehn leaned against a railing as she waited for word that the carriages were ready to take her and her inner circle back to the Comte’s estate. Morrigan had spoken with her earlier and would be traveling to Skyhold at Celene’s insistence to help with the Inquisition’s fight against Corypheus. Nehn was nonplussed with the raven-haired apostate’s addition to their numbers but didn’t argue against it. If the woman was truly raised by the Witch of the Wilds, she might hold some arcane knowledge that could help their cause. At the very least, it would be interesting to watch the interactions between Leliana and her. 

“We’re almost prepared to depart,” Cullen said as he walked out to stand beside Nehn. 

“Praise the Creators! I don’t know how much more of this I could take,” Nehn answered.

“I thought now that we’re alone...” Cullen said moving closer to Nehn. Her breath caught in her throat as she anticipated him kissing her or saying something romantic. A grin crept across his face as if he read her mind, and he stepped even nearer to her. He leaned forward as if to kiss her and then added, “That I should remind you that the leathers you owe me should be properly cleaned and folded before being placed on my desk.”


	61. Chapter 61

“I can’t believe you!” Nehn exclaimed as Cullen stood close enough to kiss her but was instead choosing to gloat over winning their bet. 

“Did you think I might do something different?” Cullen asked nonchalantly. 

Nehn scrunched up her face and gave Cullen her best insulted look. “I’m not sure we’re on speaking terms any longer,” she snipped.

He saw through her faux-anger and chuckled. Then with feigned indifference, he said, “It’s your choice really - you can pout over losing your favorite leathers, or you can dance with me.”

“You said you didn’t dance,” Nehn replied forgetting that she was trying to be angry with him.

“I said I didn’t dance well and wanted to avoid embarrassing us. We’re alone, and I may never have this chance again. So will you dance with me?” Cullen entreated while bowing and extending his hand to her.

“There isn’t any music, Cullen.” Nehn pointed out while taking his hand.

“Then I’ll just have to make some,” he answered pulling her to him and swaying back and forth slowly while humming. Nehn closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest feeling the vibrations created by his voice. When he reached the end of the song, he stopped dancing but didn’t let go of Nehn. “This is nice,” he whispered while running a hand along her bare shoulder.

“Mmm hmmm,” she agreed.

“For fuck’s sake, Cullen, kiss her,” Bull said with irritation, and Nehn and Cullen flew apart. 

“Way to ruin the moment, you brute,” Dorian chided. “Nonetheless we’ve been dispatched to tell you that the carriages have arrived.”

Cullen’s eyes gleamed murderously as he stalked toward Bull and Dorian. “Leave NOW,” he growled. Dorian tugged on Bull’s arm, and the two left a seething Commander and a red-faced Nehn behind.

“Well, I guess we’ll need to...” Nehn started to finish her thought, but Cullen had taken her in his arms again and was following up on Bull’s suggestion. Whatever skills he lacked in dancing, he more than made up for with his kissing. When he broke away, Nehn was breathless and boneless.

“Mythal’s mercy,” she gasped

“Is that good or bad?” Cullen questioned worried that he had somehow overstepped.

“Perfect,” Nehn said and then felt completely giddy when Cullen kissed her again.

After another blindingly wonderful kiss, Cullen stepped back and offered Nehn his arm. “I suppose we should go.” She merely nodded unable to string together a coherent thought and then looped an arm around his bicep while biting her lip to keep from smiling too widely.

Cullen guided Nehn to the nearest carriage and helped her inside then climbed in as well. She grinned when she saw Varric and then was mortified to see Solas sitting beside him. _Well, this is awkward,_ Nehn thought. 

“Sassy! I haven’t seen you all night. I hear I missed quite the show,” Varric exclaimed in his gravelly voice.

Nehn smiled nervously thinking he might be referencing Bull and Dorian catching Cullen and her together. “It certainly has been an eventful evening,” she said glancing briefly at Cullen.

“Making the Empress of Orlais wait while you took a bath - classic! I couldn’t make this shit up. What gave you the idea?” Varric asked.

“I felt dirty,” Nehn answered truthfully. _And I thought that the shemlen bitch could wait on someone else for a change._ Nehn thought but kept to herself.

Solas nearly called her out when he said, “I have a feeling there was more to it than that, da’len. Nevertheless, it was an excellent way to remind her who was in charge. The move you made with Briala surprised me. Did you save her simply because she is an elf?”

“No, I wanted to earn her loyalty and gain access to her spy network. Leliana is working out the details, but Briala’s exile will be to Ferelden - Caer Bronach specifically,” Nehn answered with a grin.

“You’re stationing Briala at one of the Inquisition’s forts? Aren’t you worried that will piss off Celene?” Varric questioned.

“The Empress actually thanked me,” Nehn said with a twinkle in her eye. “I presented the idea as the Inquisition offering to keep close tabs on her former rival.”

Varric slapped his knee and laughed while Solas chuckled. Cullen said warily, “It worries me a bit how well you play the Game.”

“I don’t enjoy the Game, but if forced to join in, I’ll play to win,” Nehn answered as the carriage lurched forward.

“I have no doubt about your competitive streak,” Cullen said. “Too bad about those leathers,” he ribbed.

“What am I missing?” Varric asked.

“I lost a bet to Cullen. If I’d won, I would have gotten his red coat with the fur trim. I got sidetracked **saving Thedas** , “ Nehn emphasized while looking at Cullen pointedly, “and he pulled ahead of me in points. Anyway, he’s won my favorite leathers.”

“Not the beige ones,” Varric lamented.

“The very same. He expects them on his desk cleaned and folded neatly as soon as we return to Skyhold,” Nehn replied while narrowing her eyes at Cullen.

“Don’t bet it if you aren’t willing to lose it,” Cullen rejoined mercilessly.

“You can’t accept defeat,” Varric challenged. “Double down. Winner takes all. Play a game of Wicked Grace with Kirkwall rules.”

“I’ve never heard of Kirkwall rules for Wicked Grace, and I lived there for ten years, Varric,” Cullen argued.

“That’s because you never played against Isabela. When I say winner takes all, I mean it. The loser goes home stark naked,” Varric said while leaning back against the cushion and folding his arms.

Solas groaned. “Surely, neither of you would entertain such a juvenile idea.”

“You can only wear an outfit like this one once,” Nehn replied gesturing to her dress. “I’ve got nothing to lose really.”

“Except your dignity,” Solas noted.

“Dignity is overrated. I want my lucky leathers,” Nehn retorted.

“So Curly, are you in?” Varric pressed. 

“As tempting as it is, I’ll have to decline. I couldn’t handle the guilt should I embarrass the Inquisitor twice in one night,” Cullen said.

Nehn cursed in elven. “I’m going to get those leathers back, Cullen. What are you even going to do with them? I had perfectly reasonable plans for your coat.”

“I’ll probably just stick them in a drawer. It isn’t as if I could or would want to wear them. Although I might have them made into a nice comfortable pair of slippers...” Cullen teased.

“You wouldn’t!” Nehn exclaimed in horror then cursed more in elven.

Solas looked at Nehn askance. “I don’t think it’s even possible to do what you’re suggesting with a wolf’s phallus, and I’m quite certain that Fen’Harel would never consider such activities.”

“As if you’d know...” Nehn countered and then sat back sulking over his lost leathers for the rest of the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my revamp of the infamous Jim the interrupter first kiss scene. Hope that you enjoyed it. : )


	62. Chapter 62

As soon as the carriage arrived at the Comte’s estate, Cullen was called to meet with his officers. He looked apologetically toward Nehn, but she waved him on. She was absolutely spent and just wanted to crawl into bed. Dorian, however, had other ideas. He followed her to her room demanding details of what had transpired with Cullen.

“Dorian, I’m exhausted. I’ll fill you in tomorrow. I promise,” Nehn said as she removed her tiara and shook out her hair.

“At the very least, I need to know if he kissed you and if so, was it any good?” Dorian insisted.

“Yes, he did, and it was better than good. It was fabulous. Now get out of my room,” Nehn demanded.

“You can’t just say it was fabulous and leave it at that... Come on, I’m living vicariously here,” Dorian begged.

“Then go bug Cullen. I’m going to bed,” Nehn said emphatically.

“If I ask him, I’ll end up with a black eye. His back was to you, but the look he gave Bull and me was positively feral when he told us to leave. I half expected you to show up at the carriage thoroughly ravaged,” Dorian rambled while Nehn took him by the elbow and guided him to the door.

“Details tomorrow. Sleep tonight. Goodbye, Dorian,” Nehn said as she opened the door and pushed him through.

**************************

Even though they had returned from the Winter Palace well after midnight, Nehn was up before dawn. She wanted to speak with Cullen before they got pulled in separate directions by their duties and knew that he’d already be up and working. As she suspected, he was hunched over a desk reviewing reports when she walked into the library.

“I went to bed the minute we got back, but you headed off with your officers. Have you slept at all, Cullen?” she asked with concern.

He grabbed the back of his neck and looked uncomfortable. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then,” Nehn said. 

“I’m meeting with some of Celene’s marshalls later today. There’s a backlog of issues for you to address now that the ball is out of the way. And frankly, I was too keyed up to go to sleep last night,” Cullen explained with a smirk.

Nehn slid between him and the desk and put her arms around his neck. “Too keyed up? I wonder why,” she said innocently.

“Word about us is going to spread like wildfire,” he warned.

“The so-called Herald of Andraste and the Commander of her forces ... not gossip fodder at all. Does it bother you?” she questioned while fiddling with the fur on his coat.

“Ideally we could keep our private lives private, but I’m rather glad that they have reason to speak of us,” he admitted.

“Me, too,” she said and then bit her lip.

“But?” Cullen asked.

“How are we going to do this? I’m scheduled to leave for Skyhold in a few hours, and you’ll be here meeting with Celene’s people the rest of the week. By the time you get to Skyhold, I’ll be gone. You’ve said it yourself ... there’s a long list of things that have been left undone while getting ready for last night...” Nehn anxiously noted.

“We’ll write each other - more than just reports mind you, and when we have a chance to be together, we won’t waste it,” he replied calmly while caressing her upper arms.

“And what about Asha and Falon?” 

“What about them? Are you speaking about your clan’s objections?” Cullen asked.

“No, I’ve come to grips with Deshanna’s decision, and I think my children are content with their new lives. What I’m talking about is if things go sideways between us... Asha worships you, and you’re Falon’s commanding officer...” Nehn fretted.

“Already planning our break up? Isn’t that a bit premature?” Cullen questioned with a small grin.

“Okay, maybe I’m just a bit wary after what happened with Solas,” Nehn said tensely.

“I’m not Solas, and I will do my best not to give you a reason to end things,” Cullen promised.

“Well, you might want to break up with me...” Nehn countered.

“I highly doubt that,” he said and kissed her gently. 

“You might have to keep convincing me,” she said and leaned in to kiss him again.

“So it wasn’t a rumor after all,” Varric’s rough voice echoed behind Nehn.

“Shit, Varric, did you have to sneak up on us like that?” Nehn hissed.

“I am a rogue. It’s what we do,” Varric teased. “I have to say I’m excited by this twist to your story, Sassy. The elven mage and her human templar lover... classic two-worlds-collide material.”

“You don’t need to write about us. You need to finish that story for Cassandra. I’ve finished the series now, too. I need to know what happens to the Knight-Captain. You can’t just leave people hanging like that,” Nehn cajoled.

“What series is this? Maybe I should read it,” Cullen commented and Nehn turned red.

“It’s one of his lesser known works. Not really your genre,” Nehn backpedalled and Cullen arched an eyebrow. 

“Fine,” Nehn conceded. “It’s smut. Porn with little plot. Whatever you want to call it, and I need to know what happens next. Please, Varric.”

“Alright, Sassy. I’ll get to work on it. Although I’ll expect a complete run down of how Curly and you finally got together in return,” Varric bargained.

Nehn sighed, “Fine. I’ll tell you because you’ll make up something ten times more embarrassing than the truth if I don’t.”

“You’re a fast learner, Sass,” Varric said with a wink and walked away whistling.

****************************

When Nehn reached Skyhold, she was overwhelmed by a tsunami of things requiring her “immediate” attention. Cassandra wanted to find the other members of her order that had gone missing. Cole was worried about being bound like the demons at Adamant, and the Rivaini amulet Solas had suggested to prevent that wasn’t functioning. Josephine asked Nehn to travel to Val Royeaux with her to find out why some of her couriers had been murdered. Crestwood’s dragon had attacked more people and needed slain. The Chantry was sending envoys who demanded that Leliana and Cassandra help settle the election of a new Divine or perhaps become candidates for the position themselves. The pleas from Emprise du Lion for the Inquisition’s aid were becoming more desperate. Even the very self-sufficient Leliana wanted Nehn to go with her to the Free Marches to follow up on a letter she had received after Justinia’s death.

But the biggest issue Nehn found upon her return to Skyhold was a pretty dwarven lady she found standing next to Varric in the Great Hall the morning after she made it back home. When Varric introduced the woman as Bianca, Nehn knew there was going to be a problem - she just had no idea how big of one.

Nehn tried to like Bianca. She was Varric’s “great love” after all, but the dwarven woman sent every alarm bell Nehn had in her head ringing. Bianca was exceptionally intelligent, smug, evasive, and manipulative. Speaking to her was like dealing with Solas - except Bianca had a more overt, caustic wit, a prettier face, and curves that made Nehn envious. _I knew Varric was a breast man,_ Nehn thought as she glanced at Bianca’s figure. _Buxom dwarven bitch. I didn’t have boobs like that when I was nine months pregnant._

Bianca claimed that lyrium smugglers had discovered and opened an access point to the dwarven thaig Varric and Hawke had explored years earlier. She wanted Nehn and her inner circle to investigate with her assistance. Varric reminded Nehn that the thaig was where he’d first stumbled across red lyrium, so Nehn had little doubt that Corypheus or his Red Templars would somehow be tied to the smugglers Bianca had identified. Nehn sighed and agreed to leave for where the smugglers were operating in the Hinterlands within the week. 

The morning that she left to deal with Bianca’s lead Nehn pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote Cullen a quick note that she planned to leave on his desk with her lucky leathers.

_Cullen,_

_I’m taking some of my team to the Hinterlands to deal with Cole’s problem as well as a new one that has popped up - Bianca, the woman not the crossbow. Leliana has the details of what we’re doing should you need them. Full disclosure: I can’t stand Bianca, and I’m going to be lucky if I make it through this trip without decking the bitch. If all goes well, we should be back within a week or so - maybe with another dragon under our belts._

_Word of warning - Asha has learned an electrical spell and thinks it is hilarious to offer to shake hands and then zap the person instead. I remember intentionally making people’s hair frizzy when I learned a similar spell, so I’m paying for my youth it seems._

_I have cleaned my lucky leathers and have left them folded on your desk per your request. Please don’t turn them into slippers. I intend on winning them back._

_In related news, Varric and Bull took up a collection in the Herald’s Rest for me to get a new set of leathers cut similarly to my beige pair. In one night, they raised enough gold for two new pairs, so I’ll soon be sporting black and red leathers around Skyhold. They even modified the neckline to be less constricting. I’d be happy to trade them for your red coat and my old pair of leathers. Let me know if you’re interested._

_Nehn_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 300 kudos! ***happy dance*** Thanks for everyone's support. It's great to have such a receptive audience. : )
> 
> My vacation approaches. I hope to write a couple more chapters before I leave Sunday - then you'll have a week or so without updates. We'll be heading to New England. I haven't been there since I was a teenager, and the rest of my family has never been that far north. If you have any recommendations about things to do, let me know in the comments. We're renting a car and have no firm plans other than doing a walking tour of Boston's historic district. We're the aimless type of tourists... but it does make our trips actually relaxing.


	63. Chapter 63

Cullen stood at his desk reading Nehn’s letter, occasionally chuckling or shaking his head. Her determination to get her old leathers and his coat bordered on fanatical, but he found it endearing. He decided to write her a quick letter even though she would return in a few days.

 _Nehn_ ,

_Thank you for your note and the prompt delivery of ~~the materials for my new slippers~~ your leathers. I also appreciate the warning about Asha’s newest trick. Getting zapped in heavy armor is rather unpleasant. I’ll notify my people to be on guard against her “friendly” handshakes for a time. I’m sure the newness of the joke will wear off soon enough._

_The dragon near the Hinterlands hasn’t caused any damage to people or property. Given how poorly you fared in your last dragon battle, consider leaving it be. Since I’m sure you’ll ignore that suggestion, please remember to keep your barrier up this time. Like a shield, it does no good if you don’t keep it raised. Also you could leave the hacking and slashing to trained warriors and attack from range... not that I expect you to follow that advice either. Please just make sure to come back in one piece - I do expect you to listen to me on that account._

_I hope that you’ll find a solution for Cole’s problem. Perhaps whatever you come across will have the side effect of stopping him from blurting out people’s most private thoughts at random. Not that I don’t find it amusing when he interrupts the chant with some poor sot’s pining for one of the lay sisters or lets a plot point slip for one of Varric’s novels in the middle of supper._

_I’m interested to hear more about this Bianca. Did Varric name the crossbow after her? Also please try not to “deck” her. You weigh next to nothing and are used to relying on your magical abilities not brawn. There’s no way you can take anyone in a fist fight - particularly not a stocky dwarven smith._

_I’m considering your trade offer carefully. I will have to see these new leathers in person before I decide._

_Be safe,_  
_Cullen_

*************************

When Nehn received Cullen’s letter, she tore it open immediately to read. Dorian tried to snatch it from her. She elbowed the Tevinter in the gut and fade-stepped away for privacy while Dorian protested that he was at least entitled to a summary given that he was best friends with both of them.

“Dorian, we need to get you a boyfriend. What about Zevran?” Nehn suggested as Dorian snuck up and tried to read over her shoulder. 

Dorian was insulted. “I’m not about to go slumming it with an Antivan.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Zevran interjected. “And don’t knock the Antivan slums. The best whorehouses in Thedas are located there. I should know I grew up in one.”

“Sorry, Zev. You know I love you,” Nehn placated.

“And yet you refuse to share your bed with me. This is something I’ll never understand,” Zevran lamented.

Nehn finished the letter and handed it to Dorian. He read it and complained, “There’s nothing salacious in here. Where’s the double entendre? Where’s the dirty talk? I’m utterly disappointed in Cullen.”

“As if I’d hand you a letter with any of those things in it... I do wish it had arrived a bit sooner, though. It might have saved me a black eye and a broken nose,” Nehn commented.

“What did Bianca say to you that set you off so badly?” Bull questioned. “Dorian, Zevran, Varric, and I were halfway out of the cave before we noticed that you two weren’t behind us, and then when we got back you were having a full on cat fight.” 

“I’m curious as well. Were you perhaps fighting over me? I’m hard to resist for those with good taste,” Zevran quipped while giving Dorian a disdain-filled sneer.

“Bianca had spent the day demeaning Varric. He’s head-over-heels for her for whatever reason, and she kept belittling his devotion. Then she made some snide remark about coming after me should Varric get hurt when she’d spent the day doing nothing but hurting him, and I just lost it. The bitch had it coming,” Nehn said emphatically. “I just hope Varric forgives me once he gets finished _comforting_ her.”

“Don’t worry - he’ll get over it. He may have even liked seeing two women fighting over him. You’re amazingly scrappy for someone your size. I would have never guessed that you could pin Bianca,” Bull noted.

“I probably shouldn’t mention that I tripped and landed on top of her then,” Nehn said.

“Yes, keep that to yourself. It ruins the mystique you’re building otherwise,” Dorian advised. “I do have to compliment myself on the healing job I did on your nose. It’s back to being cute as a button.”

“What do you mean the healing you did to my nose? You just held up a mirror for me while I took care of it,” Nehn corrected.

“Details, details... I never heard you stealing credit from Solas.” Dorian countered.

“That’s because he actually knows more than rudimentary healing spells. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent him back to Skyhold after we fixed Cole’s amulet issue. I bet he wouldn’t be trying to read my mail,” Nehn snipped.

“Oh, that would go over quite well with Cullen I’m sure. Never mind me ... I’ll just go off gallivanting with the old beau,” Dorian said theatrically.

“I’ve been very clear with Solas that it’s over, and Cullen isn’t the jealous type anyway,” Nehn argued. Bull, Zevran, and Dorian looked at Nehn like she was completely insane.

“Uh, Boss, did you just say Cullen wasn’t possessive?” Bull questioned in utter disbelief.

“Yes, what of it?” Nehn asked.

“I don’t even know where to begin. Does one of you want to handle this?” Bull said while looking between Zev and Dorian.

Dorian cursed in Tevene and then spoke, “I thought the cluelessness had come to an end. Evidently, I was wrong. If Cullen doesn’t see Solas as a threat, it’s only because he wasn’t around to witness the majority of your relationship firsthand. I doubt he’s even thought about whether you slept together.”

“Well, should it matter? We aren’t together now,” Nehn challenged.

“Whether it should matter isn’t the issue. Would it matter to Zev or me? Not in the least. But Cullen... he’s looking for a relationship not just sex. You get that - right?” Bull quizzed.

“Yes, I understand that. I’m not a complete imbecile,” Nehn huffed. “I just started seeing Cullen. Why should he be concerned about an old flame?”

“I wouldn’t call Solas an _old_ flame. You split up less than two months ago, and he’s still after you.” Dorian pointed out.

“That isn’t my fault, Dorian,” Nehn said defensively.

“Look, we’re not trying to pile on you, Boss. Just consider leaving Solas at Skyhold when you can. That way he can move on, and Cullen’s imagination won’t get the best of him,” Bull counseled.

“Or you could opt for a man that would spend his nights making passionate love to you and his days praising your beauty and wit,” Zevran offered. “What? Still not interested? Pity.”


	64. Chapter 64

When Varric hadn’t returned to camp by mid-morning the next day, Nehn was beside herself and pacing like a caged animal. “Do you think we should go looking for him?” Nehn asked Bull every few minutes.

“Boss, like I said five minutes ago, he’ll be back when he’s ready,” Bull repeated.

Nehn bit her lip and resumed fidgeting. “Okay, do you think I should maybe write a contrite note? Something along the lines of _Sorry I lost my temper with Bianca, but the bitch had it coming._ ”

“The first part had promise. You might want to scratch that last bit if you hope to smooth things over,” Bull advised.

Nehn sighed and took out a piece of parchment to write Varric an apology. She was on her fifth draft when he came back into camp. Nehn took one look at him and started a litany of verbal apologies - for losing her temper, for starting the fight and pulling out some of Bianca’s hair, for calling his love things best not translated from elven, and for risking their friendship because she was overly protective of him and jealous of Bianca.

Varric folded his arms and listened. When she finally took a breath, he spoke, “I came back ready to tear into you, but you piqued my interest when you said you were jealous of Bianca. Care to explain that?”

“She has a wonderful guy that’s completely dedicated to her. Not to mention that she is very pretty, exceptionally smart, and has boobs I would kill for,” Nehn summarized.

“Bianca does have phenomenal tits,” Bull agreed.

“Not helping with the envy issue,” Nehn said through clenched teeth to Bull. She turned toward Varric and added, “Bianca was speaking down to you because of the thing I most admire about you - your loyalty. I should have just said something then, but I was trying not to make a scene.”

“If you weren’t wanting a scene, you failed pretty spectacularly. What were you thinking jumping her like that?” Varric questioned with rising annoyance.

“I was thinking that I wanted to hurt her like she hurt you,” Nehn admitted and looked at Varric apologetically. “I **am** sorry for how I acted, but I’m not sorry for why I acted the way I did. You deserve better, Varric, whether you believe it or not.”

“Not your call to make,” Varric reminded her.

“I realize that now. So are we going to be okay?” Nehn asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, we’ll be okay. Just stay clear of Bianca - alright? I think I’ve talked her out of putting a hit on you, but it’s probably for the best if you don’t cross paths again,” Varric warned.

“I will happily agree to that condition,” Nehn said with a big smile and then ambushed Varric with a hug.

Varric patted her on the back. “You’re impossible to stay angry with - did you know that?”

“I try my best,” Nehn said giving him another squeeze.

************************  
Skyhold was abuzz with the news that the Inquisitor had defeated her second dragon and was on her way back to the keep. Cullen was glad for her victory but was even more relieved that she and her companions had managed to kill the beast without getting seriously injured. 

Cullen wanted to get Nehn a present to celebrate, but he also wanted to avoid anything too over the top. Flowers would have been perfect, but she was allergic to almost anything with pollen. She had an infamous sweet tooth, but the bakers in Skyhold were already making cookies and cakes to celebrate the dragon slaying. Clothes or jewelry seemed too personal. Armor and weaponry were practical but not at all romantic. She wasn’t a big drinker and had full access to Skyhold’s cellars, so he ruled out wine or spirits. 

He had nearly given up on the idea of getting her anything when he happened by one of Skyhold’s merchants selling apples they had dipped in caramel and put on sticks. Figuring that Nehn loved anything sweet and that a food which required no utensils to eat was ingenious, Cullen bought one for each of them and asked the shopkeeper to wrap them up for later. Satisfied with his purchase, he whistled on his way back to his office which caused nearly every soldier he passed to look warily at their Commander who was rarely in a good mood and certainly never whistled.

Shortly before Nehn arrived, a runner approached Cullen with a note telling him that she would be at her quiet place in three hours. When she came through the main gate, she made eye contact with him, and he held up the note and nodded. She smiled brightly and headed to her quarters to clean up and spend time with her family.

Cullen had to shuffle his schedule a bit to accommodate meeting Nehn, and his second-in-command Knight-Captain Briony looked like she might faint when he delegated taking evening reports to her. Cullen was very much a hands on leader, and Briony couldn’t think of time when he was physically present in Skyhold and didn’t take reports himself. “Is there a problem?” he asked when he noticed her surprise.

“No, sir” she replied quickly and then questioned hesitantly, “Are you feeling well, sir?”

“I feel fine,” he replied with slight confusion and then picked up a small package from his desk. When he began humming as he left his office, Briony had to reassure herself that the Commander wouldn’t seem nearly so happy if he had somehow been possessed. 

Nehn arrived ten minutes early to the dungeons. She spoke briefly with the head guard and passed her some dragon scales as thanks for keeping the quiet place quiet. Knowing Cullen would show up exactly on time, Nehn settled down at her spot and enjoyed the view and the sound of the waterfall. She was sore from her scraps with Bianca and the dragon and tired from riding all day, but she was excited to see Cullen again for the first time in a little over two weeks.

As she predicted, Cullen appeared right at the appointed time. She glanced over her shoulder, waved, and returned her gaze to the mountains. He sat down beside her and then startled a bit when he looked at her face.

“Maker!” he exclaimed, “That’s some shiner you’ve got. Did the dragon do that to you?”

“No, the dragon didn’t even touch me this time. I followed my advisor’s suggestions to keep my barrier up and fight primarily from range,” she said while gently elbowing him. Then pointing to her eye, she quipped, “This baby came from a run in with Bianca - the bitch not the crossbow.”

“So you followed my advice about the dragon but ignored it with the dwarf?” he chuckled.

“Technically, I didn’t ignore it. It arrived too late. I’d already discovered for myself that I’m not cut out for fisticuffs, although Bull did say that I’m surprisingly scrappy which I suppose is some consolation,” Nehn sighed.

“Why did you get in a fist fight with Bianca and more importantly who won?” Cullen asked while shaking his head at the notion of a mage as powerful as Nehn resorting to throwing punches.

“The short answer is that she’s ungrateful and untrustworthy. As far as who won, I was on top of her when they pulled us apart, but she had landed more hits. So I guess it was a draw,” Nehn replied with a shrug.

“Why not use your magic?” he asked while settling back on his elbows. 

“I wanted to hurt her not kill her, Cullen. Even though dwarves have some natural immunity to magic, I didn’t want to risk doing lasting damage. I’m lucky Varric has forgiven me for what I did do,” Nehn admitted. 

“Good point. That must have been quite the sight - you two scuffling - I almost wish I’d seen it,” Cullen joked and then produced the small bag. “I thought you might like this.”

Nehn took the bag eagerly and gushed when she opened it. “I love caramel apples! Thank you.”

After offering him the second apple, she gave Cullen a quick peck on the cheek and sat contentedly munching on her own treat as he recounted events that occurred at Halamshiral and Skyhold in her absence. Celene’s generals were thankful for the Civil War’s end and promised to support the Inquisition’s efforts against Corypheus. Morrigan had arrived at Skyhold, and Briala was staying there briefly before continuing on to Caer Bronach. Leliana was giddy with the influx of information that Briala’s network was providing and noted that it more than made up for their loss of Ben-Hassrath intelligence.

“It’s been a pretty good fortnight for the Inquisition and you then,” she commented while trying to keep the apple’s juices from running down her arm by licking her wrist. 

Cullen passed her a clean handkerchief and said, “Yes, overall. It was a bit awkward when Solas came to speak with me about you, however.”

Nehn nearly choked on her apple. “He did what?”

“He either pieced together on his own or heard a rumor that we were seeing each other. He stopped by my office on the pretense of discussing an elven temple that the glyphs you found in the Exalted Plains helped him locate, but the conversation turned to you fairly quickly,” Cullen said while studying Nehn’s reaction.

She put her head in her hands and started speaking in elven.

“I have no idea what you’re saying you know,” Cullen prompted.

“Sorry, just cursing a bit. I’ve told Solas more than once it is over, but he isn’t accepting that well.” 

“Obviously,” Cullen replied, and Nehn was uncertain of the implications of his response. 

She decided to opt for full disclosure just in case. “Dorian pointed out to me that you might not be aware of the...umm... extent of my previous relationship with Solas, and then Bull said you might have a problem with it if you were. Elgar’nan, this is uncomfortable,” Nehn said nervously. _Come on, Nehn. You’re a grown woman - act like it,_ she told herself before continuing, “Solas and I have not been together since Adamant, but we were intimately involved with each other for a few months before then.”

Cullen looked nonplussed by her revelation. “I assumed as much. You were sharing a room at Griffon Wing after all.” He paused for a moment and then added with a hint of annoyance, “Did Dorian and Bull really think I wouldn’t understand the implications of that? I mean I _was_ a choir boy at one point in my life, but I’m certainly not that naive.”

“So you aren’t angry with me?” Nehn asked uncertainly.

“What? Of course not, I’m aggravated that Dorian thinks I’m an idiot. I can’t hold your time with Solas against you. I held no claim on you then.”

“No claim on me then.” Nehn repeated with amusement. “So do you have a claim on me now?”

Cullen looked uncomfortable, grabbed the back of his neck, and stammered, “Well... I mean I guess we never talked about that... but I assumed...” He collected his thoughts and then spoke more coherently. “My preference would be that we only see each other. Is that okay with you?”

Nehn laughed and took Cullen’s hand. “Yes. I barely have time to date one person much less try to keep up with a harem.”


	65. Chapter 65

Nehn clapped her hands together and jumped up and down when Harritt showed her the completed leathers Bull and Varric had commissioned. Then when Dagna told Nehn that she’d taken the liberty of enchanting them as well, Nehn’s squealing thanks became so enthusiastic that her voice reached near ultrasonic highs. After hugging Dagna and Harritt, Nehn raced off to her quarters to try on her new outfits.

Easing into the still stiff black leathers, Nehn checked herself out in the mirror. If Cullen thought her old leathers were too revealingly tight, this pair would utterly blow his mind. The neckline of her old leathers that required Nehn to keep her jacket buttoned to the top had been replaced with one that allowed her to use her discretion about how much skin she wanted to show. She settled on leaving her collar open just enough that when she reached over the war table Cullen would be provided with a distracting view.

Pursing her lips, Nehn looked over her shoulder to see how her rear appeared in the new gear. A smug grin swept over her face when she noted that the hemline of her jacket had been raised to reveal even more of her perky butt. The best thing about the new outfit Nehn concluded was her new boots. Her old pair that matched the beige leathers were comfortable and pragmatic but not alluring. Her new boots had a slightly higher heel and were contoured to fit her calves - creating a sexy and svelte silhouette.

Nehn started playing with her hair - trying to decide what style best suited her new outfit - when Sylvia came into her room. She took one look at her mother and shook her head. “I can see Bull and Varric had fun suggesting alterations. Doesn’t it bother you that your _friends_ want to see you tarted up?”

“Not when I look this good in the result,” Nehn kidded. “Look, I fully expect that this set of leathers will never again see the light of day after this morning’s war council. I’ll get my lucky leathers _and_ Cullen’s coat - you’ll see. If not, I really like the boots, and the outfit has enchantments.”

“What are you even going to do with that monstrous coat if you get it? It would swallow you, Mamae.”

“It’s more about getting it away from him, da’len. The thing is atrocious, and I can’t see his bum when he wears it,” Nehn explained.

“I should have known better than to ask,” Sylvia groaned. Then she smiled and pointed to a chair, “Sit down. I’ll fix your hair. I assume you want a sultry but not too slutty look. I’ve got the perfect solution.”

After Sylvia had styled Nehn’s hair into a partial up do, Nehn skipped down the stairs of her apartment and then collected herself into a more dignified demeanor before opening the door to the great hall. She sauntered over to Varric, twirled once, and then bowed slightly before thanking him for the new outfit.

“Totally worth it, Sass,” Varric smiled. “I just hope Curly doesn’t try to hang me by my toes once he sees it. I know you’re hoping he’ll give you your old gear back, but I prefer the new look.”

“Dagna told me that she added several enchantments to both outfits. Something like that would be quite costly. I wonder who cared enough about my safety to front the coin for that,” Nehn said while giving Varric a knowing look.

“No clue, Sassy. Whoever it was must think you’re pretty special,” Varric replied cagily. “So what are you up to now? Please tell me that I get to tag along if you’re off to show Curly.”

“Varric...” Nehn started to protest but then changed her mind. “Alright, come with me,” she said while heading toward the front door.

“Wait a second. The shorter route is this way,” Varric stated while nodding toward the door to Solas’ study. “I want to witness firsthand a certain elf’s reaction... for research purposes only, of course.”

“Of course,” Nehn giggled while changing course.

Varric opened the door to the rotunda, and Nehn waltzed through. Solas had his back to the door and didn’t look up from his studies until Varric called out. “Good morning, Chuckles.”

“Good morning, Varric,” Solas mumbled and then finally turned away from his books. When he saw Nehn, a look of intense displeasure mixed with unadulterated lust went over his face, and he greeted her with a curt, “Inquisitor.”

“Sorry to interrupt, Solas,” Nehn chirped and glided casually toward the door leading to the battlements. Just before she reached it, she spun around and cocked her head, “Cullen mentioned that you’d stopped by to talk.”

“Did he?” Solas replied with a smirk while crossing his arms.

“Yes, I was hoping that you might give me a _written_ report about the ruin you’ve located. It’s odd that you thought he’d be interested in that. I doubt it has much military significance,” Nehn said with a sly smile.

“I thought he might like to know more about our history,” Solas answered evenly.

“As elves? Or otherwise, Solas?” Nehn questioned while narrowing her eyes.

“Both, of course. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do, Inquisitor,” Solas cut off the conversation.

“So I’ve missed part of the story I see,” Varric commented. “Is our resident Fade expert trying to stir the shit?”

“It’s Solas - if he can’t be in the Fade, he wants to play games with people outside it.” 

“What did you see in him anyway?” Varric quizzed.

“I could say the same thing about Bianca,” Nehn snipped.

“Touche´, I’ll leave that one alone then,” Varric said while holding his hands up in surrender.

Before Nehn entered Cullen’s office, she bent over, tousled her hair, then stood up quickly to create volume and soft waves in the part of her hair Sylvia had left down.

_I could sell tickets to that show,_ Varric thought. “Alright, Sassy, just promise that you’ll cut me down quickly if Curly strings me up.”

Cullen was sitting down and examining maps on his desk when Nehn and Varric came in his office. He looked up and chuckled when he saw Nehn. “Varric, I don’t know whether to thank you or throttle you.”

“You’d be amazed how often I hear that. I’m going to get Bull, so he can see our creation,” Varric said as he ambled through Cullen’s office and out the door which led toward the tavern.

Cullen kicked his legs up on his desk and folded his arms while staring at Nehn. She grinned wickedly in return and walked closer making sure to sway her hips to their full effect. He held up a hand and then motioned for her to turn around. She obeyed, twirling quickly, and he corrected her saying, “No, slower. I want a good look before I decide what I think of this outfit.”

He held a gloved fist to his mouth and examined her intently as she carefully modeled the leathers. When she’d completed one rotation, he put his feet down from his desk and signaled her to come closer. She sauntered over, holding her arms behind her back, and batting her eyelashes flirtatiously while copping an innocent smile.

“I bet you think that you’re getting my coat and your old outfit,” he said with a devious glint in his eyes. 

“Well, aren’t I?” she teased.

“It’s tempting,” he said while running a gloved hand along the back of one of her thighs and then letting it drop back to his armrest. “But I think I like this outfit too much for it to sit in a drawer unused.”

“Really?” Nehn was amazed. She had been certain that she’d get his coat. Trying to console herself, she commented with resignation, “Well, it is more practical than my old ones I suppose. Dagna added all sorts of protective enchantments to it. And the boots are really cute.”

“Don’t be disappointed just yet,” he said with a wink. “If I recall correctly, they had two sets of leathers prepared. Remind me about the other one.”

“It’s similar to this one although it has a heart-shaped neckline, and it’s red - not blood red, more maroon. Why?”

“That one might present a problem. You see, red is my favorite color. Seeing you in it might cause me to neglect my duties,” Cullen observed while stroking the stubble on his chin.

“Well, we can’t have that,” Nehn teased while dragging her hand along Cullen’s shoulders as she walked behind him. “I assume you have a counter-proposal...”

Cullen and Nehn’s negotiations were interrupted when Bull burst through the door to the office with Sera on his heels. “Let me get a good look, Boss,” he ordered.

Nehn stood up straight and held her arms out to her sides.

“Woof!” Sera exclaimed.

“Nice,” Bull growled. “I’d say more, but I’m pretty sure Cullen might deck me.” 

“Smart man,” Cullen concurred. “I hate to break up the fashion show, but we do have war council to attend, Inquisitor.”

Nehn thanked Bull for her outfit, and then left with Cullen to go to the war room.

“You were saying something about my red leathers?” Nehn reminded him.

“Yes, I was thinking perhaps you might save wearing them.”

“Save wearing them for what?” Nehn asked.

Cullen raised an eyebrow and gave her a positively sinful look.

“My, my... you certainly aren’t a choir boy. You may be waiting for quite some time, Commander. I don’t want to rush things,” Nehn warned.

“I’m a patient man,” Cullen answered with a smirk.

“Say I keep my beautiful new red leathers in reserve - what’s in it for me?” Nehn bargained. “Perhaps your coat?” 

“You’re never getting my coat, Nehn,” he said emphatically.

“See... now you’ve made it a challenge. My competitive streak won’t let me rest until it’s mine. So what _are_ you offering?”

“What do you want?”

“Hmmm... for you to stop wearing metal plate when you’re off duty and we’re spending time together. I can’t cuddle you when you’re wrapped up like a sardine in a tin can,” Nehn stated.

“A tin can? I’ll have you know this is silverite,” Cullen corrected. “But I will agree to your request,” he said as he opened the door to the council chambers for Nehn.

Leliana had invited both Briala and Morrigan to the council meeting and requested that Nehn allow them to speak first.

“What do you know of eluvians, Inquisitor?” Morrigan asked.

“Not much, I’m afraid. They are ancient magical elven artifacts that resemble mirrors. Merrill of Clan Sabrae encountered one that had been corrupted by the Blight and worked to restore it without success. I am unsure of their purpose, however, and I’ve never seen one,” Nehn responded.

“You know more than most. Few today have heard of their existence, much less know how to use them. I, however, do know how to use them,” Morrigan said haughtily.

“Terrific,” Nehn said with some aggravation at having yet another mage with a superiority complex in her life. “So what do they do?”

“They allow people to travel great distances quickly,” Briala answered. “Have you ever wondered why elven ruins are scattered across Thedas with no roads between them? It is because the ancient elves used magic to travel between places. They didn’t require roads because their cities and shrines were connected by eluvians.”

“Mythal’s mercy,” Nehn exhaled. “And some still exist and function?”

“They do, Inquisitor,” Morrigan answered, “And I have brought one here to Skyhold.”

“Is that safe? Who has access to this eluvian network, and can they just show up in Skyhold at will now?” Cullen questioned his mind abuzz with the security implications of having a magical artifact in the keep.

“A reasonable concern, Commander. Only I can access the eluvian at Skyhold as I am not only its owner but creator. Only I know the magic and passwords required for its use. Briala, however, has an entire network of eluvians at her disposal. A network that she is willing to share with you, Inquisitor,” Morrigan said with a nod toward Briala.

Nehn was speechless. Morrigan had the arcane knowledge to recreate a functioning artifact not seen for millennia, and Briala had somehow acquired the use of others. “I... I don’t know what to say,” Nehn admitted. “This is astounding - that you could build one Morrigan and that those left over from Elvhenan still work.”

“Few left from the time of the elves still function, Inquisitor. Later I will take you to a place I call the Crossroads. It is where many eluvians meet. You will see that most of the mirrors there are shattered, blackened, or permanently locked. Still with Briala’s eluvians, you will be able to move through Thedas rapidly and without fear of detection,” Morrigan explained.

Briala produced a small bag and opened it. As she spoke about how she had come upon the eluvians and gained the password to several of them, she placed mirror shaped markers on the war table map of Thedas. “These, Inquisitor, represent the eluvians that can be used by anyone of elven heritage with my password. A password that I am willing to share with you in gratitude for saving my life and putting me in a position where I can affect real change for the elves of Thedas rather than rely on Celene’s half measures.”

“Thank you, Briala. That is unbelievably generous. Am I correct in understanding that I could go through Morrigan’s eluvian to the Crossroads, choose one of Briala’s eluvians, and say be in the Western Approach when I came out?” Nehn questioned while gesturing to one of the mirror markers.

“That is correct, Inquisitor. A journey that should have taken weeks would be cut down to mere hours,” Morrigan observed.

“I could accomplish so much more with their use, but what of Corypheus? Does he have access to this technology?” Nehn asked.

“Not yet as far as we know. However, I believe he is trying to gain it. It was that concern as well as her gratitude that prompted Briala to offer her eluvians to the Inquisition. Leliana has already arranged for them to be subtly guarded,” Morrigan stated while grudgingly acknowledging the spymaster.

“There is one other concern that the eluvians bring. The in-between places they lead to aren’t quite the Fade but are very close to it. Should Corypheus gain access to a powerful enough eluvian, he might be able to knock down whatever barriers separate those places from the Fade, and then enter the Fade physically himself,” Morrigan cautioned.

“Fenedhis, he could make an end run around us - even though we’ve sealed the Breach, gotten rid of his demon army, and stabilized Orlais,” Nehn gasped.

“Just so. Which is all the more reason for the Inquisition to find Corypheus and prevent him from taking an eluvian,” Morrigan concluded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this will be my last post before my vacation begins.
> 
> For those that haven't read it, "The Masked Empire" goes into great deal about eluvians, and Briala does actually gain access to several of them. I thought it would be nice to give Nehn quick-travel abilities for both story purposes and potential drama. The in-between places that eluvians utilize are actually painful and disorienting for non-elves, so to best use the network, Nehn will need to stick to bringing elven companions with her. Oh... that means she'll need an elven warrior doesn't it? Hmmm... I bet Varric might know someone that fits the bill.


	66. Chapter 66

After Briala and Morrigan’s revelation about eluvians, Nehn could not wait to see the one in Skyhold. She suggested that the remainder of the council meeting take place after she had a chance to view the eluvian. 

“I would like to go as well, Inquisitor,” Cullen stated his mind fixated on the dangers and security implications of having a door connected to all of Thedas in the middle of their fortress.

“Certainly. Josie and Leliana, you’re welcome to come as well,” Nehn added.

“I have already experienced the eluvian, Inquisitor. If you don’t need me, I would rather not go through it again,” Leliana responded.

“Why? What happens?” Nehn asked warily.

Briala spoke. “Traveling through eluvians feels invigorating, almost euphoric to elves. To those not of elven heritage, it is uncomfortable and tiring.”

“Uncomfortable is an understatement,” Leliana countered. “You could have warned me, Morrigan,” she added while leveling an icy glare at the apostate.

“Does it hurt you, Morrigan?” Nehn questioned.

“It is nothing unbearable, Inquisitor, although Leliana seems to disagree,” Morrigan gloated thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to take a swipe at the spymaster. _The Hero of Ferelden must be quite the man if they are still fighting over him a decade later,_ Nehn thought.

“In that case, I will stay back as well,” Josephine tactfully declined.

“I’m curious how it will affect my team members. Let me grab a few of them, and I’ll meet you in the small courtyard,” Nehn said before racing off.

She stopped by Varric’s table in the great hall and gathered him before going into Solas’ study.

“What is it now, Inquisitor?” Solas asked still clearly annoyed with Nehn’s black leather clad appearance.

“Oh, I just thought my Elvhenan-obsessed friend might enjoy seeing a working artifact from that time...” Nehn teased.

“You found the orb?” Solas questioned his eyes wide with excitement.

“No, not the orb - an eluvian,” Nehn smiled.

“Fascinating. Something must have reactivated the network,” Solas thought out loud.

“How did you know that they were once deactivated or even linked together?” Nehn asked. “Never mind - you’ll just tell me you saw it in the Fade.”

Solas chuckled relieved that his slip hadn’t been more damning. “There are references to eluvians in ancient Tevinter books. The magisters investigated them for years but were never able to move through them.”

“So you also knew their purpose...” Nehn noted. 

“I did,” Solas responded casually while marveling at her cunning. _I must remember to speak more cautiously around you,_ he thought while trying to mask his emotions.

“I assume that you would still like to see the eluvian,” Nehn said while cocking her head.

“Of course. Where is it?” Solas questioned.

“Nearby. I’ll take you there,” Nehn answered and then looked up to the second floor of the tower, “Dorian, I know you’ve been eavesdropping. Do you want to come with us?”

“I was only waiting for you to ask,” Dorian’s voice floated down from above. “Bull wants to know if he may join us as well.”

_What’s Bull doing hanging out in a library with Dorian?_ Nehn wondered but brushed the thought aside. “That’d be fantastic actually. Then I can see how the different races react.”

“What do you mean react? Is this one of Dagna’s experiments? I spent a good two days in the infirmary after helping her with her last research project,” Varric said warily.

“No, Dagna isn’t involved. Briala mentioned that exposure to the eluvian impacts people differently. I’m curious to see how my team does,” Nehn replied while reassuringly patting Varric on the arm.

Nehn led her friends to the courtyard off the Chantry chapel to meet Morrigan and Briala. Cullen was standing in between them quizzing them on how many people could move through an eluvian, whether passwords could be changed, how many elves knew Briala’s codes, and every other vulnerability his fevered mind could envision being caused by the elven artifact’s presence in Skyhold.

Morrigan opened a door to a small room off the courtyard and uncovered a large mirror. She sent pulses of magical energy toward it, and the eluvian’s surface began to glow. Gesturing to the mirror, Morrigan said, “After you, Inquisitor.” 

When Nehn balked, Cullen and Solas simultaneously offered to step through first then glared at each other. Nehn glanced between them with a worried expression obviously torn over who she should ask when Bull brushed past all of them saying, “For fuck’s sake, I’ll go,” and went through the mirror. Emboldened by Bull’s maneuver, Nehn followed through on her own. 

Bull was resting his hands on his thighs and grimacing when Nehn appeared. “Boss, how are you feeling?” he asked while straightening up with obvious discomfort.

“I feel great, but I can see that you don’t,” Nehn replied as Cullen and Solas stepped through the eluvian together. Cullen’s legs buckled beneath him, and he put a gloved hand to his forehead as he winced in pain. Solas gave a haughty look to Cullen and walked around him. Nehn’s face twisted in anger as she sidestepped Solas and went to help Cullen.

“I would caution you to avoid using magic, da’len,” Solas said to Nehn as she readied a healing spell.

“Why not?” she asked thinking he was merely wanting to prolong Cullen’s pain.

“The magics at work in this place are ancient. We do not know how they would react to newer magic much less the mark you bear,” Solas advised.

Cullen had righted himself by that point and brusquely told Nehn that he was fine. 

“It hurts like a mother at first, but you get used to it,” Bull claimed although it was clear that he wasn’t adjusting terribly well.

Dorian and Varric came through next. Dorian looked around as if the place smelled awful and announced, “This is ghastly. I feel as if I’ve woken up from a night of drinking the piss Cabot passes off as ale.” Varric scrunched up his face and said, “I gotta agree with Sparkler. I’d feel more comfortable if we were in the Deep Roads, and I hate the Deep Roads.”

Solas had wandered away from the group and was examining the many mirrors that surrounded the eluvian that led to Skyhold. Noticing that Cullen was developing the tremors that came during bad lyrium withdrawal episodes, Nehn asked him if he wanted to turn back while reaching a hand toward his face. He pushed her hand aside and reiterated that he was perfectly fine while glowering at Solas who was moving about the area as if he were completely at home. Nehn knew better than to listen to Cullen and announced that she wanted to go back to speak with Morrigan. She took Cullen’s hand and drug him through the eluvian with her. Dorian, Bull, and Varric followed behind closely.

Morrigan was surprised by their quick return until she saw Cullen who was pale, shaking, and soaked in sweat. Nehn asked Morrigan if she would be willing to do another demonstration later while she guided Cullen away from the mirror and had him sit down. “Of course, Inquisitor. I shall be happy to help in any way. Where is Solas?” Morrigan questioned

“Consumed by history, I suppose. He was unaffected as was I. The rest of our party...” Nehn said while kneeling before Cullen and conjuring a healing aura.

“I said I’m fine,” Cullen growled at Nehn.

“No, you’re not,” Nehn disagreed loudly and then whispered in his ear, “I’m going to stop the tremors before Bull figures out that you’re having lyrium withdrawals.”

Cullen sighed, “Alright,” and rested his head against the wall. After pulling off his gloves and gauntlets, Nehn took his hands in her own and pushed waves of healing energy through his body. 

“I felt better once I got out of the eluvian, but Cullen still looks rough. Is he going to be okay?” Bull questioned.

“He will be fine. Briala mentioned that non-elves struggle to varying degrees adapting to the environment within the eluvian. It obviously doesn’t suit Fereldens,” Nehn answered while tousling Cullen’s hair which had gotten curly from sweat. 

Cullen smirked at her jest, and then tried to stand. His face screwed up in pain, and Nehn guided him back to the floor before sending more healing energy through him. “Don’t waste your mana on me,” Cullen directed, but Nehn shushed him and continued to recite regenerative spells. After a few minutes of Nehn’s dedicated spellcasting, Cullen’s color returned to normal and the tremors dissipated. “Thank you, Inquisitor,” Cullen said sheepishly as he took the hand Bull offered him.

As Bull helped Cullen to his feet, Solas finally came through the mirror. He looked disdainfully at Cullen and lectured, “Some try to minimize the differences between elves and other races. There is more to being elven than pointed ears. Perhaps this experience will enable you to see that more clearly for yourself.”

Nehn’s eyes flashed with anger, and she hissed a warning in elven to Solas that his observations were unwanted and unnecessary.

“I would disagree, da’len. You forget yourself too easily,” Solas replied while leveling a steady gaze at her.

Nehn again countered Solas in elven telling him that she forgot nothing - especially not his half truths and misdirections- and that she wasn’t as easily swayed by them as others were. Then she switched to the common tongue and said, “This discussion is over, and your objections noted, hahren.”

Cullen watched the interchange between them closely and furrowed his brow when Nehn spoke in elven. Was she purposefully excluding him from their conversation? What had she said? Did she in some way agree with Solas’ observation? Nehn gave Cullen a weak smile and gestured for him to follow her after dismissing the rest of their party.

“Solas is an arrogant ass,” Nehn said as they were walking through the great hall.

Cullen grabbed the back of his neck and stopped moving while he considered his reply. Finally, he dropped his hand and said cautiously, “He does raise a point, though. Perhaps we could discuss this more privately.”

Nehn looked worried but agreed. “If that’s what you want, then we’ll go to my quarters now. I need to change. These new leathers are chafing me. I’ll have to break them in slowly.”

“I can wait outside,” Cullen offered, and Nehn rolled her eyes before dragging him through the door to her apartments.

Cullen hadn’t been in Nehn’s room since her first night as Inquisitor. She had redecorated considerably since then. The large canopied bed that Josephine had chosen was replaced with a much simpler one with twice as many pillows. “How do you sleep with all of those pillows?” he asked.

“Oh, I love feather pillows. Really I think they’re the most ingenious thing humanity has devised,” Nehn gushed as she headed into her closet.

“The Dalish don’t use pillows?” Cullen questioned incredulously.

“We have something like them, but they’re not nearly as soft and fluffy,” Nehn replied from the closet. “I think I’d make a bed of nothing but pillows if I could manage it.”

Cullen looked at the raised area over Nehn’s closets. It had a sissal rug and several statues arranged on it. “What are those statues up there?” he wondered aloud.

“The elven gods - save Fen’Harel. He’s on the balcony looking away from Skyhold. My family and I use that area for meditations and storytelling,” Nehn answered through the half closed closet door while slipping out of her leathers.

Cullen knew Nehn was Dalish and held different religious beliefs, but he hadn’t really considered them before. He’d assumed her reluctance to be addressed as Andraste’s Herald was more of a cultural preference, but looking around her room it was obvious that she was quite dedicated to the elven pantheon. “So you worship these statues?” he asked.

“Not the statues, silly. Those are just to help the mind focus on the god they represent, but I do worship the Creators - particularly Sylaise,” Nehn said as she pulled a fur trimmed green mage’s robe over her head and donned a pair of matching slippers.

“Sylaise?” Cullen repeated uncertainly.

Nehn came out of the closet, climbed up the ladder, and asked Cullen to join her on the raised alcove. He followed and listened as she pointed to each of the statues naming them and giving a brief description of their attributes. She finished with Sylaise and pointed to her vallaslin. “When I became an adult, I chose to follow the Vir Atish’an, the path of peace, advocated by the hearthkeeper Sylaise. Deshanna marked my face with her symbols as a show of my devotion and readiness to accept adult responsibilities in the clan.”

“Didn’t that hurt - having your face tattooed?” Cullen asked as he studied the swirling marks around Nehn’s left eye.

“Absolutely. The vallaslin must be accepted in complete silence without wincing or showing other signs of distress. Having the self control to receive them without crying out is part of what shows the clan that you are ready to be an adult,” Nehn explained.

“Complete silence while your face is tattooed?”

“Yes, with your own blood mixed with herbs, dyes, and infused with the Keeper’s magic. When Cassandra described the euphoria she felt when her vigil to become a Seeker ended, I understood that feeling. It was the same for me when my vallaslin was complete, and my faith rewarded by full acceptance into the clan,” Nehn said while touching the marks on her face.

“That seems like torture,” Cullen commented.

“A large part of being elven is learning to endure - mistrust, insults, and attacks from outsiders. The Dalish live a hard life, Cullen. Many nights I have gone to bed hungry so my children could be fed. I’ve cared for young girls that ventured too close to human settlements and returned to the clan after being beaten and raped. Our hunters themselves are often hunted. The vallaslin are no more cruel than the life we chose in exchange for our freedom.”

“My clan and Solas think I have forgotten these things - especially with me seeing a human. I haven’t. They are etched into me just as are my vallaslin, but the pain from receiving the vallaslin fades as does resentment against humans if you allow it. I don’t want to simply endure life as an elf. I want to enjoy life as a person. You make me feel safe, happy, and content. Why would I reject the joy you bring to me just because of your race?” Nehn said while taking Cullen’s hand and smiling.

“But I don’t believe in your gods...” Cullen replied.

“Why would you? They’re _elven_ gods and are not interested in the devotion of a human. Does it concern you that I’m not Andrastian?” Nehn asked.

“It should, but it doesn’t actually,” Cullen admitted. “It matters more to me that you have faith - not where you choose to place it.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s aired out. Do you have any other concerns about being with an elf?” 

“If we continue our relationship, it will cement your clan’s decision to exclude you,” Cullen reminded.

“If I went back to the clan, I’d have to give up my pillows and petit fours,” Nehn teased and then added somberly, “The choice of leaving my clan was made when I became Inquisitor. There are too many people -elves and otherwise- relying on me to step away even after we defeat Corypheus. Deshanna recognized that before I did. Her reasons for coming to that conclusion were flawed, but the decisions she made based on them were fair. I have accepted that. You needn’t feel any guilt.”

“What about you? Do you have concerns about my being a different race?” Cullen questioned.

“I’d call them more curiosities than concerns...” Nehn said and then blushed crimson.

Cullen raised an eyebrow. “What curiosities would cause you to turn that shade of red?”

Nehn stepped over to the ladder and slid down it before heading out to the balcony overlooking the mountains. “Forget I mentioned anything. My mouth often speaks what should remain in my mind.” 

Cullen followed her and wrapped his arms about her waist while kissing her neck. “I would be happy to relieve you of any concerns you may have,” he said while turning her to face him.

Nehn mumbled something in elven and pressed her lips together in consternation.

“What did you say just then?” Cullen said with a self-assured smirk.

“I said that you are making it very difficult to take things slowly,” Nehn snipped.

Cullen grinned wickedly before kissing her while his hands glided up and down her sides nearly touching her breasts. Nehn had to fight herself to keep from unfastening his armor and leading him to the bed. _Don’t rush. Don’t confound your emotions with sex,_ Nehn advised herself. Her resolve nearly faltered when Cullen’s hands traveled lower and gripped her rear while he trailed kisses down her neck. _Fenedhis! Why does that have to feel so good?_ she wondered while her eyes fluttered shut. 

She put her hands to Cullen’s chest and stepped backwards. “Leliana and Josie are waiting for us to finish the war council, and I really think it best if we don’t rush.”

“I assume I have Solas to thank for that as well?” Cullen questioned with a hint of annoyance.

“It’s hard for me to distinguish between desire and love. They’re very entwined for me. I want to be sure of how I feel about you - for both our sakes. I didn’t do that with Solas, and I regret it,” Nehn said.

“Did you love him?”

“If it was love, it wasn’t healthy love. It grew more out of neediness and lust than respect or trust. You deserve better, and I want to be able to give that to you,” Nehn said while her eyes searched Cullen’s face for understanding.

“So what _can_ I do?” Cullen asked while tracing the buttons on the front of her dress with a gloved hand.

“Let’s just make sure to keep our clothes on for the time being,” Nehn suggested.

“All of our clothes?” Cullen asked while fiddling with the top button of her dress.

“We’ll see. You aren’t going to make this easy for me - are you?” Nehn teased.

“Not in the least, but I appreciate that you want to get things right. I’ve never been in a relationship - not one that’s lasted past a few nights anyway. Maybe going slow is what I need as well,” he said before putting his hands on her cheeks and kissing her softly. _At the very least, I know that I’ll be grateful for the cold showers in the barracks for the time being._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from vacation with a head bursting with stories to find over 350 kudos. Thank you so much for reading along. : )


	67. Chapter 67

As Nehn and Cullen left her room, Nehn noticed Asha playing in her room with a little boy that she didn’t recognize. “Asha, who is your new friend?” Nehn questioned. 

The black haired boy who was wearing fine silks and a Grey Warden medallion stood, bowed, and addressed Nehn while holding her gaze with his yellow eyes. “Inquisitor, my name is Kieran Tabris. I’m sorry if we bothered you. Mother said that we should be quiet if we chose to come inside to play. She mentioned the Commander had a trying time in the eluvian.”

From the boy’s appearance and knowledge of the eluvian, Nehn surmised he was Morrigan’s son. What took her aback was his surname - Tabris. Cullen evidently had the same reaction because he asked, “Tabris? Like the Hero of Ferelden?”

“Yes. He is my father. You needn’t be embarrassed about your reaction to the eluvian, Commander. I’m half elven and was born at the Crossroads, but I much prefer to travel in other ways. I think only Father enjoyed moving through them. It always makes mother disagreeable,” Kieran said in a formal tone that made him seem much older than his physical appearance.

_I can’t imagine Morrigan being more cross,_ Nehn thought but said, “Well, it’s quite nice to meet you, Kieran.”

“You as well, Inquisitor.” Kieran replied and then turned his attention toward Cullen. “The song is barely audible in you. Perhaps Father will be able to let it fall silent as well. He regrets learning templar skills.”

Asha called out while motioning to their game, “Kieran, come on. It’s your turn.”

Kieran looked over his shoulder and then said, “I’m coming,” in flawless elven before bowing once more to Nehn and Cullen and taking his leave.

Nehn walked a ways down the corridor before whispering, “That was bizarre. I wouldn’t expect that Asha Bellanar’s grandson would be completely normal, but how could he tell you no longer take lyrium?”

“I have no idea, but the Order would be furious with Alistair for teaching Tabris templar abilities,” Cullen whispered back. 

“Well, Wardens clearly will do anything to combat the Blight. Compared to what we saw at Adamant, Alistair’s sharing of templar secrets seems harmless,” Nehn replied still befuddled by their conversation with Kieran. “Do you think Asha is okay playing with him?”

“He’s odd, but I don’t think he’s harmful. Being with Asha will be good for him. He clearly hasn’t spent much time with people his age. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have Morrigan for a mother,” Cullen mused while following Nehn down the stairs from her quarters and into the great hall.

“I can’t either,” Nehn said while she entered Josephine’s office. Leliana and Josie were waiting for them.

“What did you think of the eluvian?” Leliana asked Cullen.

“I agree with you. Once was more than enough,” Cullen quipped as the four of them entered the war room together.

Nehn started speaking, “I can still use the eluvians to our advantage. I’ll just need to travel with an all-elven team through them. Zevran and Solas will go without a problem. If I can convince Sera it isn’t too ‘elfy,‘ she will join as well. The only thing I’m lacking is an elven warrior.”

“It is a shame that Tabris is away and subject to Corypheus’ false calling. He would have been perfect,” Leliana lamented.

“I was surprised to meet his son this morning,” Nehn commented.

“You and your clan aren’t the only one that can keep children secret, Inquisitor,” Leliana replied cooly.

“Are you still upset about that? If I’ve forgiven you for ensuring Giselle’s rumors reached my clan, I would think you could get past my not mentioning my children,” Nehn said pointedly while Cullen and Josephine’s mouths dropped open. Cullen had suspected that Leliana might have been involved in spreading the rumors but had never been able to get any clear evidence.

Leliana’s eyes dropped as she gasped, “Oh.” After regaining her composure, she asked, “How long have you known, Inquisitor?”

“I suspected it from the moment I heard that Deshanna had been told I was involved with Dorian. When I directed you to find the source of the rumors and you never followed up, I became certain,” Nehn said while holding Leliana in a steely gaze.

“I see. If it means anything, I regret having taken that course of action. I meant only to drive a wedge between you and your clan not sever the connection entirely,” Leliana said contritely.

“I assumed as much from your reaction to Deshanna’s letter. Perhaps it is time to put our mutual distrust aside for the good of the Inquisition,” Nehn said while extending her hand toward Leliana.

“I would like that, Inquisitor,” Leliana said while taking Nehn’s hand. To the bard’s surprise, Nehn pulled her into a warm hug and patted her on the back several times. When the two parted, Leliana’s eyes were moist, and she smiled genuinely at Nehn. 

“Now back to the problem of needing an elven warrior,” Nehn stated crisply.

Cullen was still marvelling at the interaction between Nehn and Leliana. He doubted many people could confront the spymaster and come out of the exchange unscathed much less with an ally. At the same time, Nehn could have taken any action she deemed appropriate against Leliana but had chosen to offer forgiveness instead. She clearly lived her beliefs when it came to promoting peace. He was looking at Nehn admiringly when he realized she was staring at him expectantly. 

“I’m sorry, Inquisitor,” Cullen said while clearing his throat and trying to recall the topic at hand. “Finding another warrior with skills that could match Cassandra or Bull would be difficult. Looking for one that is elven as well ... I can think of only one person, and I’m not sure if we could locate him or convince him to join you.”

“I assume you are referring to Fenris,” Leliana added. “I have had my agents keeping tabs on his location for some time now. I thought it best to keep a closer eye on Varric’s past associates, since he has clearly kept them informed of our activities.”

“Varric claims that Fenris and I would detest each other,” Nehn said hesitantly.

“He loathes mages in general, but you’ve proven adept at changing the minds of some of their harshest critics,” Leliana said while tilting her head toward Cullen.

“I will certainly try to get along with him, but I can’t guarantee Solas will be accommodating,” Nehn thought out loud.

“You could always take a different elven mage with you- perhaps Helaine or Fiona,” Cullen said eagerly.

Nehn smirked at his suggestion. Bull was certainly correct about Cullen’s jealous streak. “There is no way that I want Fiona fighting with me although I’m sure Cassandra and you would love to be rid of her complaining, Commander. Helaine duplicates my skill set whereas Solas complements it. Helaine also has a difficult personality,” Nehn replied while watching Cullen clench his jaw and shift his weight uncomfortably.

“It has been my experience that most mages have difficult personalities, Inquisitor,” Cullen replied with resignation which caused Nehn to release a cascade of laughter.

“I can’t disagree with you on that point,” Nehn said with a wink. “Still do you think I could get Solas and Fenris to work together?”

Cullen wrinkled his face and rested his hands on the pommel of his sword “Fenris managed to deal with the abomination Anders and the blood mage Merrill for seven years. Solas, although an arrogant prick, is tame by comparison.”

“You knew about Merrill?” Nehn asked with wide eyes.

“Contrary to what Varric wrote in his story of the Champion, I was well aware of the mages that worked with Hawke. I didn’t know Anders was an abomination, but I would have been a very poor templar had I not known about Merrill. She used blood magic in front of me for Andraste’s sake,” Cullen recounted with irritation.

“But you didn’t kill her,” Nehn said.

“I didn’t. The Viscount and Grand Cleric Elthina made it very clear that Hawke and his friends were not to be bothered. Even Meredith turned a blind eye to them. Had we acted differently...” Cullen said and then sighed.

“In any event, Fenris will be able to work alongside Solas and you. Dorian may be a problem - a Tevinter necromancer from a slave owning family? It would be best if you kept them well away from each other,” Cullen advised.

“I hadn’t even considered that. Don’t we have any other options?” Nehn questioned.

“If you were needing an elven mage or rogue, we could list dozens of capable people. Because of their slight build, few elves become warriors and even fewer become skilled ones. The Wardens take most of those. I believe that Fenris would be your best option,” Leliana explained. 

“Then I’ll speak to Varric about writing him. Now to plan my movements in the meantime. Recommendations?” Nehn asked. To her amazement, all three of her advisors advocated going to Emprise du Lion. “Well, that’s settled then.” After dealing with the remaining Inquisition business, Nehn called the meeting to a close.

She waited for Leliana and Josephine to leave the room before speaking to Cullen. “About Solas...” she started and Cullen glared at her.

Nehn pursed her lips before talking. “If you don’t want him traveling with me, just say so. I can make it work with Helaine if I bring a healer with us.”

“I’m not fond of the idea, but I also recognize no other elven mage will be as protective of you. If bringing him makes it more likely that you’ll return to me safely, then I can’t argue against it. Just make sure you come back _to me_ ,” Cullen said emphasizing his last two words.

“Of course I will,” Nehn said as she put a hand to Cullen’s cheek. “And this is all a moot point until we’ve secured Fenris or another elven warrior. Until then, I will continue to take Dorian with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transitional chapters like this one give me fits. I'm ready to get on with the action... but I have to include these segues for narrative purposes. Anyway, Nehn will be back on the road soon.


	68. Chapter 68

Nehn wandered down to Skyhold’s cellars and picked out a bottle of sipping whiskey before approaching Varric. She set the bottle of whiskey in front of him, and he groaned in response.

“You’ve already tortured me once today. Don’t you think that’s enough, Sassy?” he questioned.

“That’s why I brought you the whiskey. It’s a peace offering,” Nehn said sweetly.

“I know what it is. Alright ... hit me. Are we fighting another dragon? Taking on a Deep Roads expedition? Shit... you didn’t cross paths with Bianca already - did you?”

Nehn laughed, “It’s nothing so terrible as all that. I just need you to write a persuasive letter.”

“Writing a letter might cost you a hug. This is a fine single malt whiskey. What’s the catch?” Varric asked suspiciously.

“The catch is the recipient and what you’ll be convincing him to do,” Nehn replied while giving Varric her most adorable you-know-you’d-do-anything-for-me look.

“Shit ... spit it out. And why aren’t you wearing the leathers Bull and I got you? Did Cullen change his mind about them?” Varric asked with marked agitation.

“No, he likes them actually. They were just starting to chafe. I’ll have to break them in slowly. As far as the other matter, I’m wanting to create an all-elven squad to accompany me through the eluvians. I have the rogues and mages I need, but...” Nehn explained as she sat down across from Varric.

Varric interrupted, “But you need a warrior. You want me to write Fenris.” Varric picked up the bottle of whiskey and examined it closely. “This is going to cost you more than a bottle of whiskey.”

“I figured as much. Consider the whiskey an opening offer. What else do I need to do to sweeten the pot?” Nehn answered as she rested her chin on her hands and batted her eyelashes.

Varric sat back in his chair and rubbed a hand along his jaw. Nehn grew increasingly concerned as he pondered. The dwarf was going to drive a hard bargain. A glint came to Varric’s eye, and he leaned forward resting his elbows on the table.

“Out with it,” Nehn said expectantly.

“I’ve been trying for ages to get an inner circle game of Wicked Grace together,” Varric began.

“After what happened when you played Solas, I’m surprised you’d want a rematch,” Nehn pointed out.

“Chuckles has declined my offer of further games which is fine with me. The pompous ass says we don’t present him with a challenge. I’m also excluding Leliana because I like to win, and I like to wake up alive the next morning when I do.”

“So what’s my part in this? You know I love playing cards even if I’m terrible at it,” Nehn said warily.

“You are going to wrangle a work-obsessed, fun-avoiding ex-Templar into joining us ... tonight,” Varric announced with a devious grin.

“You’re giving me just a few hours to convince the most rigid man I know to alter his schedule. Challenge accepted, Master Tethras,” Nehn said while extending her hand across the table to shake Varric’s hand. “Now get to writing that letter to Fenris,” she announced while standing to leave.

“Aren’t you interested in the outcome of another writing assignment you gave me?” Varric quizzed while holding up a book with a red-haired warrior on its cover. Nehn’s eyes grew wide, and she eagerly reached for the latest volume of Swords and Shields. Varric pulled it back from her. “Tsk, tsk ... you asked me to write this for the Seeker. Shouldn’t she be the first to read it?”

“She doesn’t have to know. Hand it over. I’m a quick reader,” Nehn said while grabbing for the book.

Varric glided away from Nehn chuckling. “You aren’t really going to try to win a game of keep away against a rogue - are you?”

“Please, Varric. I need to know what happens next, and Cassandra reads so slowly,” Nehn pleaded.

Varric smiled. “I know. That’s why I had my publisher print another proof for you,” he said while producing a second tome.

Nehn squealed and launched herself at Varric catching him in a tight hug while exclaiming, “I love you. You know that - right?”

“All the ladies do. I’m irresistible,” Varric said with a wink. “We can give Cassandra her copy tonight. I wonder if I should make you complete your assignment with Cullen before I let you have yours, though.”

Nehn looked like she might cry at his suggestion, so he handed the book over. She immediately broke in an ear-to-ear grin and skipped off with her prize happily.

Varric rubbed his forehead and muttered, “Good luck telling her, ‘No,’ Curly. Maker knows I can’t.”

Nehn passed through Solas study and chirped, “Good afternoon, hahren,” to the stunned apostate who was certain she had appeared to dress him down for his words at the eluvian.

“And to you, Inquisitor,” he returned as Nehn whisked out to the battlements. She opened the door to Cullen’s office and saw a line of soldiers waiting to speak with the Commander. 

Cullen noticed her entrance and looked around his men to greet her with a smile, “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Is there something you need?”

“It can wait. I brought something to read,” Nehn said while holding up Varric’s book.

“It may be awhile, Inquisitor,” Cullen cautioned.

“That’s fine,” Nehn said happily as she looked around his office for a comfortable place to light. When Cullen dismissed the soldier in front of him without any tasks, Nehn flagged her down. “Please see that a small table and two chairs are brought here immediately. You can put them in that corner.”

The soldier shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Cullen before saying, “Um... I’m happy to comply, Inquisitor, but I don’t want to cross the Commander.”

“Nonsense,” Nehn replied before speaking to Cullen. “You don’t mind if I have a small table and chairs brought in - do you? I don’t want to sit on the floor in my dress.”

Cullen was particular about his office. He liked to keep it as open as possible, so he had room to exercise when not working. He also wanted to make Nehn feel welcome to visit more often, so he knew a compromise was necessary. “A _small_ table and _one_ chair will be fine, but put them there,” he motioned to the corner opposite from where Nehn had suggested.

When Cullen went back to speaking with one of his officers, Nehn held up two fingers and mouthed to the terrified soldier, “Two chairs,” and pointed to the corner Cullen suggested. The soldier nodded grimly and went off to fulfill the request while cursing her luck at being caught between Cullen and Nehn’s wishes.

While Nehn waited for her seating, she tidied up Cullen’s office. For a military man, he was exceptionally messy - leaving piles of books and maps everywhere along with partially eaten meals and half emptied beverages. _You said you were a farmer’s son perhaps you were raised in a barn,_ Nehn thought as she tossed a moldy crust of bread over the battlements with disgust. 

Nehn beamed when she saw the soldier approaching with two chairs in hand while another followed with a small table. She held the door open for the soldiers as they carried the furnishings inside. Cullen wrinkled his forehead and barked, “I said _one_ chair, Kirkland.”

The soldier stood straight and replied, “The Inquisitor requested two, Sir.”

Cullen glared at Nehn who was smiling and undaunted. “We’re having supper together. Two chairs,” she explained.

Cullen let out a long sigh. “Two chairs _for now_.”

Nehn sat down at the table and opened her book before pursing her lips and standing. She sashayed over to Cullen’s desk and took his candle stand.

“What are you doing?” he asked with irritation as the soldiers around him tried their best to suppress grinning.

“You stuck me in the darkest corner of the room. I’ll have to use your candle if I want to read, or you could let me move the table where I wanted it in the first place,” Nehn needled.

“Maker’s breath! Do as you please, Inquisitor” Cullen relented. Nehn replaced the candle stand on his desk, moved her table and chairs, and sat down contentedly.

A grizzled sergeant near Cullen whispered, “Been married nigh thirty years. Best to just give ‘er whatever she asks fer right off. Women always gets what’s they wants in the end.”

Cullen chuckled, “I’m beginning to realize that myself, Hopson. Any other advice?”

“None other than the reminder that a good woman is worth a few inconveniences, and that, Sir, is one of the finest women there is,” the Sergeant said while nodding at Nehn.

“I can’t argue with that,” Cullen smirked.

Nehn was nearly finished with the first chapter of her book when she felt a small pair of arms wrap around her and a high voice exclaim, “Mamae, what are you doing here, and what’s that you’re reading?”

Nehn quickly closed Varric’s racy book and returned Asha’s embrace. “I’m waiting to speak to the Commander, and the book I’m reading isn’t for little eyes.”

“You have to get in line if you want to talk to him,” Asha advised.

“Is that so?” Nehn replied with a smile. “Where’s Lysette? Have you finished your lessons today?”

“My lessons are done, and Ser Lysette always lets me visit the Commander alone. She says he won’t let me get into any mischief. I think she just likes the break from watching me. It has to get boring. I hardly ever start fires on accident anymore.”

“I’m sure she manages to muddle through. So you’re here to speak with Cullen? I guess you need to take your place in line, da’len.”

Asha smiled which made her dimple indent deeply into her cheek. After kissing her mother, she joined the line of soldiers waiting to report. Nehn returned to reading but stopped when Asha finally reached the front of the line. Closing her book, she watched the interchange with interest.

Asha stood ramrod straight as if she were a soldier and waited for Cullen to acknowledge her. He grinned and said in a commanding voice, “ At ease. It’s been several days since we’ve spoken. I need a full report, Recruit.”

Asha relaxed her stance and folded her arms behind her back. “Having managed repairing bruises, I’m learning how to deal with small cuts. I’ve mastered Winter’s Grasp and am continuing to refine my frost spells...”

“And your fire spells?” Cullen asked with a raised eyebrow.

“They are still problematic, Sir. Immolate is said to be a simple incantation, but my flames putter out,” Asha sighed. Nehn had to put a hand to her mouth to keep from interrupting.

“That isn’t unexpected. You manifested with ice-aligned magic. Fire will always be more difficult for you. It will come in time. Don’t forget that your mother is an excellent resource when it comes to fire-based magic,” Cullen said acknowledging Nehn for the first time in the conversation. Nehn nodded but kept quiet. “Any other developments?” Cullen questioned.

Asha pondered for a few moments, “I’ve collected the wisp essences necessary to fashion my own spirit blade.”

“What? How?” Nehn exclaimed in horror imagining Asha risking her life fighting the difficult beings that produced the essences upon death.

“I traded for them, Mamae. The mages have lots collected. Kieran, Ser Lysette, and I just had to spend a few days gathering flowers outside of Skyhold in exchange.”

_You have got to be kidding me. I trudged through the gods-forsaken Fallow Mire to get mine._ “Why would you be constructing a spirit blade in the first place?” Nehn asked.

“To become a Knight Enchanter, of course,” Asha said with a touch of indignation after turning to face her mother. Cullen held up his hands as if to say, _Don’t blame me for this one._

“Knight Enchanters use very high level magic, da’len. You should master the simpler skills first.”

“No, I want to begin with a spirit blade as soon as possible. Lady Cassandra started training with her sword when she was six. Bull had his weapon in hand even younger than that. What about you, Commander? When did you first pick up a blade?” Asha queried.

Cullen could barely suppress his mirth at watching Asha turn the tables on her mother after how the afternoon’s table and chairs affair had gone for him. “I was quite young when I began with a wooden sword. My formal training began at thirteen, however.”

“See? It only makes sense for me to start young if I want to be the best ever,” Asha declared. “I”ve already talked Commander Helaine into teaching me.”

“You’ve managed to convince Helaine?” Nehn stammered in disbelief.

“She said I was as persistent as a nagging headache and that she would do anything to shut me up,” Asha said proudly at which point Cullen lost the battle he had been waging to maintain his composure by breaking into a full throated laugh.

“Like mother like daughter,” Cullen said while holding his sides and guffawing.

Nehn’s eyes narrowed, “You’ll regret that statement, Commander.”

“No, I won’t. I’ve already been advised by a wise veteran to agree to your demands. No one stands a chance against the Lavellan women,” Cullen snickered.

“Good then. After supper, we’re joining Varric for a game of Wicked Grace,” Nehn stated while her eyes shot daggers at Cullen.

“Nehn, I really have too much work to waste time on cards,” Cullen backpedalled.

“Oh no, Commander. You’re going, and I’m going to take you for everything you’ve got,” Nehn announced before speaking to Asha. “And you, little lady, will wait until I’ve spoken to Commander Helaine before saying another word to her. If she thinks that she can manage teaching you, then I won’t stand in the way. Gods help her, though, if she accepts the challenge.”


	69. Chapter 69

Cullen was feverishly reviewing orders for the soldiers that would accompany the Inquisitor to Emprise du Lion. From how low his candle had burned, he guessed Nehn would be arriving at any minute. She had left after supper promising to round him up for a game of Wicked Grace that was to start an hour before midnight. _Maybe she fell asleep,_ he hoped. He didn’t have time to waste gambling and wasn’t feeling particularly social.

Just as he thought Nehn had let the game slip her mind, she walked into his office wearing her full battle attire. Confused by her appearance, he quipped, “I thought this was a _friendly_ game we’re headed to.”

“Oh, it is. I’ve just learned to wear as many layers as possible when playing against Bull. The game invariably turns into a type of strip poker when he’s around,” Nehn explained. “You might want to wear your coat just in case.”

“Maker’s breath! What have you gotten me into this time?” Cullen exclaimed with exasperation.

Nehn sauntered over and sat in front of Cullen on the edge of his desk. She stroked his cheek while giving him a small smile. “You’ll have a good time. I promise,” she encouraged before kissing him gently.

“I doubt it,” Cullen argued while tugging Nehn down on his lap. “We could just stay here,” he offered while nuzzling her neck. “You could read that book you were so engrossed in this afternoon, and I could get my work completed.” He said while squeezing her thigh and nipping softly at her earlobe.

“You never get finished with work. That’s the point of dragging you to this game,” Nehn said while standing up and offering Cullen her hand. “Come on. They’re waiting for us.”

Cullen followed her to the Herald’s Rest like a man going to the gallows. When he saw two of the tavern’s largest tables pushed together and surrounded by people, he tried in vain to beg off citing they had plenty of players. Varric and Dorian quashed his hopes of escape by pointing out that if anyone needed a night off it was him. Cullen reluctantly chose a seat across from Nehn and took the drink Bull handed him without a word.

Two hours and two mugs of Bull’s proffered brew later, Cullen was animatedly recounting how a recruit had once shown up in his skivvies to a hall filled with mages and templars after overindulging the night before. Nehn was absolutely entranced watching Cullen laughing and joking and had to be elbowed by Josephine to remember to take her turn.

Dorian leaned over and whispered, “Close your mouth, dear. He’ll be completely unbearable tomorrow if you continue to moon over him.”

Nehn gave Dorian a sideways glance and coughed, “Bull,” while motioning toward the Qunari.

Dorian appeared absolutely flustered and then questioned in a low voice, “Is it that obvious?” Nehn nodded enthusiastically in response.

“Vishante kaffas!” Dorian exclaimed and tossed his cards down which made Nehn laugh until she snorted. She looked at Cullen with alarm at her faux pas, and then hid her face in embarrassment.

“My dear Inquisitor, you needn’t be ashamed of your laugh. One can’t help being enchanted by it or you,” Zevran oozed.

Cullen looked askance at Zevran’s attempt to woo Nehn but then added that the Antivan raised a good point. “You are charming when you aren’t rearranging my office,” he joked.

As Josephine shuffled the deck and dealt new cards, Varric tried to get Nehn to share an embarrassing story. Nehn had been sipping the same tankard of mead for the entire night and politely declined Varric’s prodding while ordering another round of drinks for everyone else. She knew she needed to stay sharp if she hoped to divest Cullen of his coat that night. Deciding that it was time to spring her trap, Nehn anted an amount higher than she knew Cullen had on him.

When the betting reached him, Cullen tried to fold, but Bull (who had guessed Nehn’s intent) reminded him that he could wager personal items as well. “Most of the time, we hand people’s gear back after a cold walk home and a good laugh,” Bull explained. Cullen took the bait wagering his coat and gauntlets to meet and raise Nehn’s bet.

Nehn had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from showing her delight as the next round of betting began. She tossed in what coin she had remaining and added her boots and duster to the pile. Zevran gave a hearty laugh as he peeled off every bit of his leather armor and placed it on the table. “I see I should have come to this game with more money or wearing more layers,” he noted. Sitting in his smalls, Zevran flexed his pectoral muscles and looked at Nehn lasciviously. “I can’t wait for the next round of bets to reach you,” he commented while Cullen glared and Nehn chortled.

Cassandra had long since stopped playing and advised Cullen that he should quit as well. He waved her off, and she sighed, “Don’t say you weren’t warned.” Dorian, who had won a few hands earlier in the night, added his coin to the pile and exclaimed that the game was finally getting interesting. Varric folded while commenting, “Watch out, Curly. She’s up to something.”

Cullen tossed in his vambrances, breastplate, gambeson, and undershirt then stared at Nehn competitively. She smiled innocently in return while enjoying the sight of him bare chested. _Oooh, he’s not hairy like some humans,_ she thought while staring at his muscles appreciatively. Bull, Cole, and Josephine threw their cards down. Josephine dealt another card to those still in the game, and Nehn had to request a replacement because she had received the Angel of Death. “The Angel of Death card marks this as the final round of betting,” Josephine reminded and then nodded to Nehn.

Nehn stood to remove her clothing, and Cullen paled. “You aren’t seriously going to strip in front of everyone,” he protested before she declared that she would be anteing with her full set of leathers. Nehn gave Cullen an apologetic look before removing them to reveal that she wore a linen blouse and trousers underneath. 

“It’s about time,” she proclaimed as she eased back into her seat, “I was burning up.” In that moment, Cullen realized that he had been duped and put his head down on the table with a thud. “I told you to stop,” Cassandra reminded in her thick accent while he groaned in response. Varric clapped him on the back and roared in laughter.

“I have nothing to add to the pot but my body,” Zevran stated. “Alas, everyone here knows that I share that quite freely, so I am afraid I must fold,” he added with a flourish. Dorian stared at his cards and toyed with his coins before announcing, “I give. It’s up to you, Cullen.”

“You’re bluffing,” Cullen accused while pointing a finger at Nehn.

“So certain?” she quizzed while twirling her hair between her fingers.

“Gah!” Cullen exhaled caught between his sense of modesty and competitive drive. Nehn watched him squirm for a bit, and then made her offer, “You can have the pot if I get your coat.”

“No deal,” Cullen declared and stripped to his smalls. “Show your cards,” he ordered.

Nehn revealed her hand which bested Cullen’s. She gleefully scooped up the pot and immediately donned his coat. Petting the fur trim, she purred, “I’ve been waiting for this moment since you took my favorite outfit.” Then she passed Zevran his leathers and Cullen his remaining gear. “I can’t have you parading through the great hall in your smalls when you walk me to my room,” Nehn explained with a wink.

Cullen shook his head and got dressed while Bull moaned that Nehn was going too easy on the Commander and the Antivan. Rather than pull her leathers on over her linen outfit, Nehn shook Sera, who had fallen asleep at the table earlier that night, and asked to borrow a bag for her things. Sera rubbed her eyes and then groused that someone should have gotten her up sooner. “Can’t believe you pissers didn’t wake me up when Inky was getting out of her clothes,” she said when Dorian told her about the night’s events.

“Sera ...” Nehn started, but Sera wrinkled her face and stuck out her tongue.

“Pffft... I’ve seen your tits plenty when we go bathing. I wanted to see Cully Wully’s reaction to everyone else seeing your lady bits,” Sera explained.

“Well, you would have been sorely disappointed in that case,” Dorian said. “Nehn came prepared wearing an entire second layer of clothes under the first.”

Sera broke into a cascading cackle and poked Cullen in the chest, “Played you like a fiddle.” 

Once Nehn had her leathers and duster neatly folded and stored in Sera’s backpack, she told Cullen that she was ready to go. He offered her his arm and led her out of the Rest. When they were crossing the courtyard, Cullen asked when she would be returning his coat which made Nehn double over with laughter.

“The short answer is never, Commander. Someone once told me that you shouldn’t bet what you aren’t willing to lose,” she replied using the words he had uttered upon winning her leathers. 

“I should have known that would come back to haunt me,” he admitted. “You can’t possibly be planning on wearing it in public. It hangs halfway to your ankles and keeps falling off your shoulders.”

Nehn moved up the staircase leading to the main keep deliberately. It was tough to keep from tripping on the voluminous mantle. “You’re correct. I shan’t be wearing this again unless I want to fall and break my neck.”

“So perhaps we could negotiate some sort of trade. Your ratty beige leathers for my coat?” he proposed.

Nehn chewed on the idea while the guards opened the giant door leading into the great hall. “Nope, sorry can’t do it. Keeping this coat is a matter of principle and pride,” she declared. “You’ll just have to get a new one made although I’d recommend using less fur next time. This one makes you look like a hunchback from a distance.”

“Now you tell me. Is that why you’ve wanted rid of it for so long?”

“I had my reasons,” she said cagily.

“Which were?” Cullen questioned.

“Well, I had to avenge the loss of my leathers, of course,” Nehn started.

“That goes without saying. Any other reasons - excluding revenge and my looking like a hunchback?” he asked with a smirk while opening the door that led to the Inquisitor’s family apartments.

Nehn stood on the stairs which made her closer to his height. Putting her arms around his shoulders and stroking the nape of his neck, she cocked her head flirtatiously and said, “Originally, I wanted to get it away from you because it hangs so low that I could never see your bum.”

Cullen suppressed a laugh at her revelation, put his hands around her waist, and questioned, “And the current reason?”

Nehn bit her lip and then shyly confessed, “I wanted something of yours to take with me when I leave Skyhold. I miss you miserably when I’m gone.”

Cullen touched her cheek and then kissed her softly, “In that case, you’re welcome to the coat. I miss you miserably when you leave as well.” He took a deep breath and stepped back from Nehn, “And I’ll bid you a good night before I start to beg you to let me come to your bed.”

Nehn nearly caved at his words - especially after seeing him in next to nothing just minutes before, but instead gave him a kiss on the cheek and wished him sweet dreams. Cullen hummed happily as he walked back to his office in spite of feeling a bit chilled without his coat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wee divergence from canon as Nehn finally gets the coat. Girlfriend was determined.


	70. Chapter 70

Solas leaned against the stone wall outside the war room and folded his arms while trying to ignore the inane discussion the two posted guards were having over what knight was most likely to win the Grand Tourney that year. When the monk’s door to the room opened, he stood straight expecting the appearance of the Inquisitor and her advisors - instead only Josephine and Leliana emerged.

“Do you need something, Solas?” Leliana asked.

“A word with Cullen,” Solas replied.

“Commander Cullen will be out shortly. He was assisting the Inquisitor with updating her maps before she leaves,” Josephine explained while Leliana smiled coyly.

After both women departed, Solas recrossed his arms and put his back to the wall once more. The two guards began talking with each other again, but Solas found their new conversation topic more intriguing.

“Updating maps? That’s a scribe’s job,” the guard with Starkhaven brogue said confounded.

“Maker, you can’t be that dense. If they’re rewriting maps, I’m the Queen of Nevarra,” the Ferelden guard chided. “She’s departing for the Lion today. I expect they’re saying their goodbyes in one of the few places in Skyhold where they won’t be disturbed.”

Solas watched as the idea sunk in on the Starkhaven guard. _I hope this particular soldier isn’t indicative of the intellectual aptitude of the Inquisition’s forces,_ he thought smugly. _If he is, Cullen needs to raise his recruitment standards._

“So that’s why they’re the last to leave lately,” the Starkhaven soldier said slowly. 

The Ferelden shook her head and sighed. “Some days it is more obvious than others that you were raised by the Chantry. Did no one ever take a lover?”

“We were there to carry out the Maker’s will not to indulge our carnal natures,” the young Starkhaven man announced with perturbation. “Templars especially should hold themselves above such frivolity.”

“You should thank the Maker that the Breach opened before you took your vows,” the Ferelden argued back. “Experience a bit of living before you decide to hollow yourself out with lyrium. I wish my brother had. After his first draught, he was never the same. Red or blue - the stuff is poison.”

Solas was impressed with the Ferelden’s sagacity. _Perhaps there is some hope for the Inquisition’s forces after all._

“Lyrium didn’t affect the Commander,” the former templar trainee retorted.

“Do you talk to no one but the Maker?” the Ferelden asked with annoyance. “Rumor is the Commander stopped taking lyrium when he left Kirkwall. Jamieson saw the list of rations for our templars. His name was nowhere on it.”

Solas’ ears perked at the guard’s words. If true, they explained much of Cullen’s behavior- especially his particularly strong reaction to the eluvian environment. It also gave him pause about initiating the conversation he had planned. Solas abhorred enslavement of all forms. If Cullen was truly trying to break free of the Chantry’s hold over him, then perhaps he shouldn’t try to make his life more difficult. _What a quandry._

Shortly afterward, the door to the war room opened with Nehn carrying an opened map with still wet ink on it. Her ponytail swished as she walked backward speaking to Cullen. Solas thought he would have to move to keep from tripping her, but she stopped and said, “Can I help you, Solas?” without even turning around.

Solas reminded himself of her ability to sense auras - a trait she had obviously not mentioned to Cullen who looked puzzled. “I was actually waiting to speak with Cullen,” he said casually which caused Nehn to spin around and face him with narrowed eyes. _So protective, da’len. Surely, your plaything can manage to speak with me on his own._

If Cullen was concerned, nothing registered on his face as he told Nehn that he would see her at the stables before she left. She looked warily at Solas and then moved briskly down the hall. 

Cullen stayed back with Solas. “I have an important meeting that I have to go to right now, and then I have a training exercise in a half hour. You’d be welcome to join us, and I could speak with you then. Otherwise, I’m afraid I won’t have much availability until after the Inquisitor departs,” Cullen offered.

“I’ll see you in a half hour then,” Solas said.

“We meet at Skyhold’s front gate,” Cullen called out. “You might want to wear something suitable for exercise. There will be a good deal of running.”

Solas’ hackles raised. He hadn’t considered what sort of training exercise Cullen had invited him to join. He’d assumed they’d be inspecting soldiers or maybe critiquing fighting forms. From the amused grin on Cullen’s face, Solas knew the Commander had intentionally tricked him. _Cretin,_ Solas thought and dismissed any idea of going easy on the Commander.

Since he wore comfortable clothes around Skyhold, Solas did nothing other than drink a stamina building potion before heading to the front gate to wait for Cullen. Soon he found himself surrounded by dozens of Skyhold’s templars. _Wonderful. So this isn’t just any training exercise. It’s a templar one. Perhaps I’ve underestimated you, Commander._

“Are you one of our runners?” one of the templar lieutenants asked Solas.

“I doubt it. Usually Fiona picks her youngest and fastest,” another one commented.

A short while later, three fit looking mages approached the group and shook several of the templar’s hands before taking off through the gate at a full run. Solas concluded exactly what type of training exercise Cullen had invited him to join. The templars were keeping their mage tracking skills sharp. _I wonder if Nehn knows of these catch-the-mage games you play, Commander,_ Solas fumed as he looked around the courtyard for Cullen.

He spotted the Commander’s blond hair first as he walked down the stairs to the main gate with Asha, who was brandishing some sort of sword. _So your important meeting was with a nine year old? I get your point clearly, Commander._

Asha put her sword in its scabbard and went running down the stairs toward Solas. “Are you one of the runners today, Master Solas? You’re really smart. I’ll bet you can lose them. I can’t wait to be the designated apostate, but mother says my legs have to get longer.”

“Your mother endorses these activities?” Solas questioned.

“She came up with them. After some of the Warden mages escaped capture, she decided the templars’ tracking skills were getting too rusty,” Asha explained.

Solas was taken aback by Nehn’s choice. Her blind spot when it came to templars was larger than he realized. Allowing one to watch Asha was one thing, encouraging them to hunt mages another entirely. _Have you truly lost all sense of reason, Nehn? I wonder how Cullen talked you into condoning this travesty._

Asha pulled out her sword and held it up for Solas to examine. “Commander Cullen helped me pick it out this morning. It’s just wood, but until I make my spirit blade I can practice with it.”

Solas smiled slightly, “So you want to be a Knight Enchanter?”

“No, I’m going to be the first Mage-Templar. If we want to have our freedom, then we’ll need to learn to police ourselves. Mamae thinks the regular type of templars should fade away. Shouldn’t you know this already? I thought Mamae and you were friends. Didn’t you ever talk about me?”

Solas paused for a moment and realized he had rarely spoken to Nehn about her children or her opinions. She had seemed content to listen to his ideas and stories. “We were quite busy, da’len, but I see I clearly missed out on a great deal.”

Cullen caught up to Asha and Solas. Patting Asha on the back, he said, “Remember your sword stays in its scabbard unless you are in the training ring. Being a warrior is as much about knowing when to draw your weapon as how to use it.”

Lysette came over and announced, “It’s time to head to your lessons, Lady Asha. Say your goodbyes, and let’s be off.”

Asha gave Cullen a huge hug and did the same to Solas, who stiffened at her touch. After Asha skipped away, Cullen commented to Solas, “It caught me off guard the first time she did it to me, too. Now I kind of look forward to it. She’s a sweet child. Headstrong - but that isn’t surprising given her mother.”

Cullen continued, “If you want, we can speak now, I finished with Asha faster than I expected, and we always give the mages at least a half hour lead.”

“This exercise was originally your idea I assume,” Solas said evenly.

“Absolutely not. When the Inquisitor and Cassandra dreamed it up, I was steadfastly against it. The last thing I wanted to do was inflame the mages, or perpetuate mage hunter stereotypes about templars,” Cullen answered as he climbed the stairs to his office. “Oddly enough, Grand Enchanter Fiona liked the idea especially with the deal Nehn struck.”

“What deal?” Solas questioned.

“That the phylactery of the mage used as a runner would be destroyed at the conclusion of the chase. The mages have taken to calling it a _freedom run_ from what I’ve heard,” Cullen continued. “Nearly all of the young mages that had phylacteries remaining have participated. Now the fastest and best run for the older mages in absentia. Soon not a single mage allied with the Inquisition will have a phylactery.”

“Those mages agreed to have additional phylacteries created on themselves?” Solas questioned. 

“Yes. Some have theirs destroyed at the end of the exercise along with the one of the mage they were standing in for. A few of the most talented evaders have said they’ll wait to have their vials smashed when every mage in the Inquisition is phylactery free. Although I’ve never been able to get Nehn to admit it, I suspect her purpose in suggesting the practice from the start was to see that all of the remaining phylacteries were destroyed,” Cullen said with obvious admiration. “She’s quite clever.”

“Yes, she is,” Solas agreed. _I’m not sure I could have come up with a more subtle plan myself._

“There was something that you wanted to discuss?” Cullen asked.

Solas stood silently for a moment. He had intended on sowing seeds of discord in Cullen’s mind about his relationship with Nehn. Solas assumed he was a better match for the Inquisitor, but it was becoming increasingly clear to him that perhaps he was not. During their time together, he had not cared to learn about her family or even sought out her opinions. He had instead tried to shape her into the person he wanted her to be rather than accepting the marvel that she was already. Solas’ mind filled with regret at the opportunities for closeness that he missed, and his heart ached for what could have been.

He cleared his throat and looked at Cullen directly. “I simply wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was childish.”

Cullen was taken aback and paused before extending his hand, “No hard feelings, Solas. Your comment actually led to a conversation that I didn’t even know we needed to have, so in some way I should thank you for it. I’m glad that she’ll have you looking after her when we she starts using the eluvians. You clearly have her best interests at heart.”

_I will try to from now on,_ Solas thought as he shook Cullen’s hand.


	71. Chapter 71

Cassandra refused to move. Nehn and Varric had given her the latest chapter of Swords and Shields at Skyhold, but she hadn’t had an opportunity to so much as crack the book open until that evening when they made camp. In order to see the words on the moonless night, she had scooted so close to the campfire that her cheeks blazed red from the heat. Once everyone had gone to their tents, she peeled out of her sweat soaked leather and armor to continue indulging in the tale in only the thin tunic she wore under them to protect her skin. 

When Nehn woke shortly before dawn, she found the Seeker by the fire still hunched over the book and barely dressed. “You’re never going to live Varric’s commentary down if he sees you,” Nehn warned.

Cassandra grunted and swatted at Nehn. “Don’t interrupt me. I’m nearly finished,” she ordered. Nehn shrugged and went to see to her morning prayers.

Zevran appeared beside Nehn a short while later. “I must have her,” he announced to Nehn who was sitting cross-legged with her eyes closed.

“Meditating...” she hissed while Zevran ignored her and continued waxing on about his new found admiration for Cassandra.

“I had no idea such a passionate woman lurked beneath that cold exterior. To have spent the night engrossed in a romance novel and be unable to pull yourself away from it even with the sun reveals your entire form through your thin shirt...” Zevran continued.

“Meditating... or trying to,” Nehn reminded.

“Do you think she’d enjoy poetry recitations and candle lit meals? I’m nearly sure she would... I know that you’ll be ever so distressed to see me turn my attentions elsewhere, but I simply much taste this sweet forbidden fruit,” Zevran opined.

Still keeping her eyes shut, Nehn clapped her hand over the Antivan’s mouth and said emphatically, “Meditating! Although soon it will be murdering if you don’t shut up.”

“Now I’m torn. I thought I could give up on you in favor of Cassandra, but when you speak of assassinating me it touches me deeply,” Zevran said although Nehn’s hand clamped firmly over his mouth made his words indistinguishable.

Nehn sighed and removed her hand. “I give, Zevran. Yes, Cassandra is a closet romantic, and I’m sure she’d adore poetry and candles. I doubt she would take any gesture from you as genuine, however.”

“That wounds me! I am capable of great love - often several times in one night,” he added proudly while Nehn smacked her forehead. 

“It is settled then. I shall woo Cassandra if only to prove you wrong, and show her what true passion can be. A woman as extraordinary as she is deserves no less... Now, how would you recommend I persuade her?” Zevran asked undaunted.

“I wouldn’t,” Nehn answered emphatically. “But you could do something novel like trying to get to know her first before you attempt to _woo_ her as you put it.”

“You make a compelling point. I will try this approach, and see what happens,” Zevran announced before hopping up and racing over to Cassandra.

_If he makes it through this mission without getting castrated, I’m going to be amazed,_ Nehn thought as she watched him sit beside Cassandra, who was still trying to finish Varric’s novel.

***********************  
To Nehn’s great surprise and relief, Zevran was fully intact three weeks later as her team made the return trip to Skyhold. Their time in Emprise du Lion had been completely draining, but the Inquisitor and her comrades had managed to secure another keep, defeat a powerful devil named Imshael, and greatly disrupt the creation and mining of red lyrium. To Bull’s delight, they had also heard of another three high dragons that would need slain at a later date. 

During their time in Emprise, Zevran had taken Nehn’s advice and tried to talk to Cassandra about things other than sex. At first the Seeker had been completely wary of his forays into legitimate conversation, but by the second week without a single innuendo directed at her, Cassandra was speaking to the Antivan without prompting. Now as they were headed back to Skyhold, Zevran and Cassandra were engaged in a deep debate about whether his training with the Crows was all that different from hers with the Chantry.

“Your training as a warrior started when you were six. I was seven when the Crows purchased me. From that point forward, we were both groomed to be efficient killers,” he stated.

“My purpose in becoming a warrior and Seeker is completely different than that of an assassin,” Cassandra retorted.

“The purpose may be different, but the outcome is the same. We both end people’s lives. I just do it faster and with less discomfort to the affected party,” Zevran noted. 

“I am not paid to kill,” Cassandra argued.

“Truly? Then how do you manage to purchase food and clothes?” Zevran questioned.

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “I will never concede that our jobs are the same. From the way you speak, you take pleasure in killing.”

“Of course. If I cleanly finish off a mark, then I am glad for a job well done. The nonlethal injuries I cause on the battlefield bother me much more. I do not enjoy causing suffering,” Zevran noted.

Cassandra sighed. “The Maker doesn’t want us to kill.”

“And yet we do. I’m quite careful to always ask His forgiveness,” Zevran remarked.

“But then you keep on taking contracts,” Cassandra said with frustration.

“The Maker has yet to complain. It must not concern him greatly. Perhaps it shouldn’t bother you so much, Seeker,” Zevran pointed out.

Varric leaned over to Nehn. “I preferred when he was talking about sex all the time. I’m starting to agree with what he’s saying and that terrifies me.”

“We all have blood on our hands,” Nehn whispered back. “He’s just less ashamed of it.”

***********************

Nehn was so exhausted that she was nearly falling off her horse when she finally saw Skyhold in the distance. The exposure to red lyrium that she had received while in Emprise du Lion had severely affected her health - as well as that of Cole and Dorian. She assumed their greater connection to the Fade was the cause but hoped that Solas might be able to come up with something to relieve the constant nausea, headaches, and fatigue Dorian and she had been battling. Cole’s disquiet seemed more of a existential nature - something Nehn desperately hoped Solas could address as well.

Not thinking how Cullen might take her heading directly to see Solas rather than her family or him, Nehn rushed to the elven apostate’s rotunda as soon as she returned to Skyhold. She collapsed onto the settee in the room before being overtaken by a round of intense vomiting and fevered tremors. Solas called for the Inquisition’s healers when Nehn could say little more than, “Too much red lyrium,” between fits of retching. Dorian, for his part, was faring some better although Bull had to help him to the infirmary. Cole stood in the shadows of Skyhold’s courtyard, rocking himself, and speaking to no one.

After depositing Dorian, Bull had gone directly to Cullen’s office. “The Boss and Dorian are sick. He’s with the healers, but I think she went to see Solas. Cole is a mess, too. The red stuff bothered us all, but it hit them the worst.”

Cullen broke into a full sprint across the battlements and made it in time to witness Nehn having a seizure. “Maker’s breath!” he exclaimed then asked Solas what he could do to help. Bull, who had followed behind Cullen, paled as he watched Nehn’s small frame writhe and then fall deathly still.

“The other healers should come soon. We need to move her somewhere less exposed. Help me get her to her quarters,” Solas fretted - his normally placid face completely panic stricken.

“No, I won’t risk her children seeing her like this, and we’d be carrying Nehn right past their rooms. We need to move her somewhere else,” Cullen countered.

Solas nodded. “She can have my room then. The fit has stopped. I think we can safely move her now, but I don’t know how much time we’ll have before another comes.”

“I’ll stay here and tell the healers where to head,” Bull offered. “She’s a lot worse off than Dorian. You might want to check her wounds. She did a lot of up front fighting when we took Suledin Keep. Lots of red templars. Might have some of that shit in her.”

Cullen already had Nehn scooped up in his arms when Solas told him to wait. He placed a sheet that had been protecting his desk from paint splatter over Nehn, “The people in the great hall do not need to see her either.”

Both men moved quickly together with Solas opening doors and clearing people out of the way as Cullen carried Nehn into the annex that housed most of her inner circle’s bedrooms. They had nearly made it to Solas room when a second seizure hit.

Cullen gently lowered Nehn to the floor and watched helplessly. Solas began reciting healing incantations that were so powerful that Cullen felt the scarce remnants of lyrium in his body humming in harmony with the magic. Nehn’s convulsions stopped, and Solas instructed Cullen to roll Nehn on her side before continuing with his healing barrage. She vomited and then fell still.

Some servants had witnessed the event and were on their knees praying when Cullen looked around him. “You there,” he called out. “Go to the Chantry courtyard and get the head alchemist as well as Lady Morrigan.” When the frightened women didn’t move immediately, Cullen bellowed, “Now!” which spurred them into a full sprint. “Should I move her again?” he questioned Solas who didn’t stop his spell casting to nod.

Cullen again scooped up Nehn who was limp and breathing shallow, rapid breaths. He carried her into Solas’ room and laid her on her side on the bed then looked at Solas for direction. Solas didn’t cease his healing spells, but gestured that Cullen should undress Nehn. Cullen complied quickly but also cast a worried glance at Solas. The amount of magic Solas was pouring into Nehn was extraordinary, and Cullen imagined that he would soon deplete his mana entirely thus risking his own health.

“The other healers will be here soon, Solas,” Cullen said, “You needn’t exhaust yourself.” Solas shook his head solemnly and kept casting. The gravity of Nehn’s situation hit Cullen, and he took her hand, fell to his knees, and began praying. 

Morrigan arrived first and gave Solas a puzzled look before beginning to cast her own healing magic. With the two mages working in concert, Nehn’s color began to improve, and her breathing became more even. Only when the alchemist and Skyhold’s healers led by Elindra arrived, did Solas stop his spells. He was pale and trembling when the alchemist poured lyrium down his throat. Elindra tried to get him to leave, but Cullen who had moved away from Nehn’s bedside to allow the healers access said, “No, she went to him. He needs to stay if only for her sake.”

Solas looked shocked but relieved by Cullen’s words and sunk into a chair in a corner of the room while Cullen paced and prayed. Bull stood in the hallway raging that Nehn had kept the extent of her illness from her team to Varric, who was somber faced and utterly silent. 

Elindra was the first person to speak a word that wasn’t a prayer or healing spell. “For the Maker’s sake!” she exclaimed while holding up a small red sliver with a pair of tweezers and gesturing to Nehn’s shoulder. “Embedded in the scar tissue from her dragon fight. Probably would have killed or infected her if it were in an area with better perfusion. Instead it just wreaked havoc with her mind-body connection. She should recover if we can keep her stable tonight.”

Solas and Cullen both let out sighs of relief as Solas buried his face in his hands and Cullen grabbed the back of his neck at stared at the ceiling. Cullen spoke first, “We have got to figure out some way to better protect that shoulder.”

Solas chuckled, “It does seem to be a particular weakness for her. Perhaps a harness like the one Bull wears with every enchantment Dagna can imagine.”

Cullen smirked, “Maybe not every enchantment. Dagna’s been exposed to a few too many lyrium vapors if you ask me.”

“True enough,” Solas admitted while shaking his head. “In any event, I never want to see her in such a state again. I wasn’t sure...”

“Nor was I, but you saved her,” Cullen interrupted.

“That was a very interesting elven dialect you were using Solas,” Morrigan commented as her yellow eyes conveyed a message to Solas that Cullen couldn’t grasp. “I suppose you must have learned it from one of your journeys in the Fade,” she said in an unconvinced tone and then added, “Mother was quite the student of elven magic. She cast similar sounding spells to save my husband and Alistair from the injuries they received at Ostagar.”

“Fascinating,” Solas replied and said no more.

“Truly,” Morrigan agreed with narrowed, wary eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm usually a total Varric/Cass shipper, but if Nehn couldn't get him off the Bianca crazy train I don't think Cass could manage it either. But something about the mutual romanticism of Zev and Cass intrigues me. Let me know if you think they could develop into something more. : )
> 
> And Morrigan begins to suspect there is something suspicious about our wolf-loving elven apostate. Wonder how that will play out when she meets mommy dearest in the eluvian later.


	72. Chapter 72

Although Elindra assured them that Nehn would recover and was just sedated and postictal rather than comatose, Solas and Cullen refused to leave her side except when Cullen went to inform Nehn’s children of her whereabouts and condition. He returned to Solas’ room with most of her family. Falon checked on his mother as if a seasoned medic and then went to speak with the healers. Sylvia at first stood shaking and quiet at a distance while Sionn rubbed her back and whispered reassurances. Then she launched into action declaring that her mother would be furious to know she was unbathed with her hair a ratted mess laying in her small clothes for the world to see. She banished all the males from the room and proceeded to give the still unconscious Nehn a bath. When they were allowed in the room again, Solas and Cullen found Nehn still sleeping but dressed in her favorite robes, smelling of vanilla and what Solas recognized as Sylaise’s moss, with her hair neatly plaited. 

Only after Sylvia’s ministrations and Falon’s investigations were done, did they send for Asha. She appeared clutching her gray halla stuffed animal in one hand while clenching Lysette’s with the other. Her sister kneeled down and explained that their mother had been injured but was going to be okay. Asha nodded, marched into the room, kissed Nehn’s cheek, and crawled into bed beside her. When one of the healers tried to make her move, Asha’s eyes flashed with the same fire her mother’s did when angry. “Mamae always sleeps with me when I’m sick. I will be doing the same for her,” she declared authoritatively before snuggling up to her mother’s back and falling fast asleep.

Sylvia, Falon, and Sionn went next door to Dorian’s empty room to rest while Cullen, Solas, and a healer sat vigil. The silence in the room grew deafening as the two men struggled with their fears for Nehn’s recovery. Finally, Solas suggested that they play a game of chess to which Cullen assented even though there wasn’t a board in the room. Calling out their moves and imagining the board in their heads, they enjoyed the challenge each other presented although the game ended in a stalemate.

When the healer left the room to get clean bandages, Solas took the opportunity to question Cullen. “I heard a rumor that you had stopped taking lyrium. Have you?”

Cullen eyed Solas warily. His templar training made him concerned about revealing any weakness to such a powerful mage. Although he was skilled with his blade, he could no longer draw on his templar abilities to counter magic. Still it seemed unlikely that Solas would capitalize on that, so he opted to tell the truth as was his habit. “Although I would prefer it not widely disseminated, I have not taken lyrium since I left Kirkwall. I wanted to leave my life as a templar behind entirely.”

“I respect your choice, and how you have managed to lead despite what I must assume have been difficult withdrawals,” Solas responded with a nod.

“Thank you. Elindra and Nehn feel that nearly all of the lyrium has left my body although I felt what little I have left in me hum with the magic you cast earlier. In all honesty, I was concerned that you might be trading your life for hers given what you were pulling from the Fade,” Cullen said solemnly.

“It was a calculated risk although I will admit to being relieved when Morrigan and the others arrived,” Solas quipped with a sly smile.

Their conversation on sensitive subjects was curtailed when the healer returned to the room, but Cullen and Solas soon settled on discussing tactics used in battles Cullen had studied and Solas had witnessed in the Fade. Cullen marveled at the insights gleaned from studying the perspectives and memories of combatants on both sides while Solas relished sharing what he’d learned in his travels. 

They were caught off guard when someone in the room didn’t appreciate their chatter. “Will you ever shut up?” Nehn’s weak voice asked. “I’m trying to rest, and you’re blathering about battles that happened centuries ago.” Solas and Cullen broke into genuine smiles at her reprimand. If Nehn was grousing, she would certainly recover. They each moved to where they could see her better and apologized for disturbing her.

She spoke to Solas first, “I swore to myself I’d never end up in your bed again but here I am. Thank you for saving me.”

“I had hoped if you’d returned it would have been under different circumstances, but I’m pleased that your illness didn’t affect your wit,” he responded with a twinkle in his eyes.

She then held her hand out to Cullen. He knelt beside her and took her hand in both of his and waited expectantly. “I need you to waylay some nobles like you did after Haven - or at least clear out while the healer assists me,” she said with a grin which made Cullen break into a full throated laugh that roused Asha who gave him a dirty look. 

Cullen stood and clapped Solas on the back while announcing their need to leave temporarily. “Did she ever tell you about that debacle?” Cullen asked as both men filed out of the room.

When they returned, Nehn was sitting up in bed and patting Asha who had just fallen back to sleep. Cullen excused himself to see to his duties while Solas spoke to Nehn briefly before nodding off in his chair. Nehn snuggled up to Asha and dozed off on her own.

After stopping by his office to clean up and check with his second-in-command, Cullen made his way to the war room. The council met regularly - even when Nehn was not present- to deal with matters before the Inquisition as best they could. Leliana and Josephine were waiting for him when he entered the war room. He apologized for his tardiness and leaned against the table exhausted.

“My agents report that she was awake and speaking this morning but still very weak,” Leliana commented. 

“She is still quite feisty,” he noted with a smirk.

“That is good to hear,” Leliana said with a genuine smile. “There is a matter we must address post haste. Josephine has received correspondence from our ambassador to Wycome that indicates she fears for her safety and thinks that one of the Duke’s key advisors is actually Venatori,” she said as she passed the ambassador’s plea for help to Cullen. “I believe we must eliminate the suspected agent. Josie favors giving her diplomat a chance to negotiate.”

Cullen read the letter carefully and said, “The Inquisitor’s clan is still located just outside of Wycome. If the Venatori are gaining ground in the city, it bodes poorly for them as well. I’m not sure she could handle such news right now.”

“We agree, but we are deadlocked unless you want to make the call for her,” Josephine explained. “I’m afraid that we can’t wait until Nehn recovers to decide.”

“Kill the advisor,” he stated decisively. “I accept the responsibility for the decision although I’m unsure if it is the one that she would make. The Inquisitor generally seeks to avoid bloodshed and subterfuge, but if we can avoid calamity with a surgical strike I think we have to weigh the potential lives saved against those of the suspected agent.”

“I shall see it done,” Leliana announced while Josephine looked disappointed but not surprised. “There is another matter that requires updating. As you know, Fenris has agreed to aide the Inquisitor and is making his way to Skyhold. I received word that he has arrived in Jader and should be here within a week.”

“Excellent news,” Cullen said.

“He arrived in Jader by a boat he chartered on himself. Its _admiral_ will be accompanying him as well,” Leliana added with a tinge of amusement in her voice.

Cullen froze and paled slightly which did not escape either woman in the room’s notice. “Are you acquainted with Isabela, Commander?” Josephine prodded innocently.

Cullen blushed slightly and grabbed the back of his neck. “We’ve had some... ah... dealings in the past,” he stammered and then sighed, “Maker’s breath...”

“I assume these dealings were of a _personal_ nature, Commander. If so, you and I share more in common than I realized. Don’t let it concern you. Isabela isn’t the possessive type,” Leliana cooed.

“It isn’t Isabela’s reaction that has me worried. Maybe ‘Bela won’t even remember. She isn’t particularly discrete with her affections,” Cullen mused.

“‘ _Bela_ is it? Oh my, so this was more than just a one night thing?” Leliana asked giddily as Cullen squirmed.

“It was more of a recurring succession of ... I’m not discussing this further! Needless to say I’m well acquainted with her,” Cullen answered in exasperation.

“Nehn is a confident woman, and you’ve been quite accepting of her previous relationships. I’m sure nothing will come of it,” Josephine encouraged.

“It’s just ‘Bela is so... out there,” Cullen replied while gesturing as if he had massive breasts. “Solas at least is tight-lipped. ‘Bela will try to get Nehn to compare notes. This is a disaster.”

“I’m sure your performance with the _admiral_ was _admirable_ ,” Leliana joked. She paused to think before continuing, “Comparing notes would only be an issue if you haven’t been intimate with the Inquisitor.” Then the bard exclaimed in delight, “You two are so preciously chaste and awkward. I love it.”

“I’m glad that my love life is such a profound source of amusement,” Cullen snapped. “Do we have any more business to attend?” 

“No, I think that’s quite enough for today,” Leliana grinned.


	73. Chapter 73

Cullen saw a slight opening in his schedule and decided to check on Nehn rather than have lunch. When he walked through Solas’ study, the elf informed him that Nehn had demanded that she be moved back to her quarters and was livid with Elindra’s suggestion that she remain in bed for a week.

“She’ll no doubt try to enlist you in her plans to subvert Elindra’s restrictions, but I believe they are warranted. She had a profound reaction to the lyrium shard,” Solas said, and Cullen nodded in agreement.

When Cullen reached the door immediately outside of Nehn’s room, the guard nicknamed Chaff smiled a bit too widely for Cullen’s liking. It irked the Commander to no end that his soldiers sought to involve themselves in his private affairs. Cullen shot the man a withering look and asked if the Inquisitor was receiving visitors.

Chaff, who was one of Nehn’s favorites, smiled even more widely, “The Inquisitor’ll be glad to see you. Elindra made us station another guard at the top of the stairs to her room because Her Worship kept trying to sneak downstairs. The Inquisitor told me she’ll convince you to dismiss that one. I’ve got good coin wagered against her that you won’t.”

Cullen smirked. Varric’s habitual gambling was wearing off on Nehn. “I’ll do my best to ensure you win that bet, Chaff. She needs to rest whether she believes it or not.” 

“Just be on your guard. The Inquisitor is a wily one,” Chaff advised as Cullen passed him to go up to see Nehn.

Nehn was sitting in her bed reading a book surrounded by pillows with Cullen’s coat draped over her legs. Her face lit up when Cullen appeared on the stairwell. “You can go now, Parsons. The Commander will make sure I behave,” Nehn said to the guard.

“Ma’am, Enchanter Elindra was insistent that I remain,” Parsons replied in a weary voice and then looked to Cullen for support. Cullen surmised Nehn had been quite persistent with her attempts to get the guard to leave and pitied her for her posting.

“Elindra is one of the few people in Skyhold that I won’t dare to cross,” Cullen commented while Nehn’s eyes narrowed. “If you wouldn’t mind taking some fresh air on the balcony, Parsons, I will make sure that the Inquisitor doesn’t try to sneak off.”

“Chaff warned you,” Nehn said slamming her book shut and folding her arms.

“As did Solas. I agree with Elindra, though. You need to take time to recover,” Cullen said as he sat down at the foot of Nehn’s bed.

“Dorian has already been released. He visited me earlier,” Nehn protested.

“Dorian didn’t nearly die yesterday,” Cullen stated, and Nehn rolled her eyes in response. Cullen continued, “I know you don’t remember, but Solas was pouring so much magic into you that I was afraid for his own health. If you won’t rest for your own sake, do it for those of us who watched you fall ill.”

Nehn sighed and laid her head back on her mound of pillows. “I’m so bored. Do you at least have news for me?”

“Fenris will be here soon. He’s bringing another one of Varric’s companions with him - ‘Bela. I mean _Isabela_ ,” Cullen started, and Nehn’s eyebrow raised when he used the diminutive for the pirate.

“ _‘Bela?_ ” she questioned, and Cullen’s hand flew to the back of his neck.

“She and I were... uh,” he stammered while Nehn’s mouth curled into a partial grin. Cullen looked like he was about to pass a kidney stone as he kept speaking, “I didn’t have much opportunity or desire to date anyone in Kirkwall. Varric’s descriptions of Isabela’s... um... proclivities aren’t exaggerated in his books, so she and I on occasion... Maker’s breath, you aren’t going to make me be more specific - are you?”

“So you and this Isabela enjoyed each other’s company from time to time?” Nehn questioned with a bemused tone. 

“Yes,” Cullen exhaled.

“Is she pretty?” Nehn asked, and Cullen felt like he had stepped onto a mine field.

“She is attractive, yes,” Cullen said and immediately wished he hadn’t when Nehn’s eyes flashed with fire. He quickly added, “I have no interest in pursuing anything further with Isabela, but, like Zevran, she is quite flirtatious and often discusses her exploits. I didn’t want you caught off guard.”

“Perhaps someone should warn her to be cautious how she acts around you... and me,” Nehn said with a clenched jaw, and Cullen brought a gloved hand up to his mouth to hide his amusement. He had never considered just how wide Nehn’s jealous streak might be. It evidently rivaled his own. He and Solas had arrived at some sort of understanding. Surely Nehn and ‘Bela could do the same.

Cullen scooted up toward Nehn and put a gloved hand on her leg. “She has nothing on you,” he said while leaning forward and kissing Nehn who was starting to pout. She returned his kiss eagerly and then stopped just as quickly.

“That reminds me. I bought you something,” Nehn purred and gestured toward her closet. 

“What should I be looking for?” Cullen asked while searching the closet which was stuffed with all sorts of armor, staves, and robes.

“An armor stand,” Nehn replied.

Cullen was confused. He already owned an armor stand. Why had she bought him another?

“Thank you,” Cullen said stiffly as he carried the stand out of the closet and tried to figure out where he would place it.

“Put it back in the closet,” she ordered. Cullen was completely befuddled but complied. Her voice carried toward him. “You promised ages ago that you wouldn’t wear your armor when we were spending time together. Now you have a place for your things here as well as in your office. No excuses, Commander.”

Cullen thought about Parsons standing on the balcony as well as all of the rumors already circulating around Skyhold about his relationship with Nehn. He also considered the pile of work waiting for him back in his office. Then his mind went to Nehn’s limp form on the floor outside of Solas’ room, and he quickly removed his armor and placed it on the stand.

Crawling into bed beside Nehn wearing a thin linen shirt and his leather trousers, he said, “I can’t stay long.” He glanced uncomfortably to the balcony where Parsons was standing with her back to them. “Nehn, I don’t know about...”

Nehn hushed him and cuddled up to his chest. “I’m not an exhibitionist. I’m content with being held.” He kissed the top of her head and tried to pull her closer. She started giggling uncontrollably. “Ticklish spot. Never fails to interrupt moments of intimacy,” she gasped.

Cullen experimentally glided his hand over her side again, and she curled in on herself, laughing. “Mercy, please,” she begged, and Cullen smirked. 

“I’ve finally found a weakness,” he said with an evil grin.

“One you surely won’t exploit,” she toyed while pulling away from him.

“Maybe not while you’re still recovering, but it is fair game later,” he teased.

“Then I shall look forward to later,” she whispered while nuzzling his neck.

Cullen almost whispered, “I love you,” as Nehn rested her head on his chest and held his hand in her own, but he hesitated. The truth was he had fallen in love with her when she was willing to sacrifice herself to save the people of Haven although he had been attracted to her long before then. Nearly losing her the night before made it almost painful to keep the words inside any longer, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them when he wasn’t sure of her response. Instead he just held her tightly while thanking the Maker for sparing her once more.

*********************

Zevran sat on the ground near where Cassandra attacked training dummies with religious fervor. She had been thrashing at them for nearly an hour when he said, “There are other much more enjoyable ways to release frustration, you know.”

She rolled her shoulders and resumed swinging. “I knew you would eventually turn the conversation to sex,” she grunted.

“I said nothing about sex. You’re the one that made that association,” Zevran replied with a laugh. 

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “So if you weren’t speaking about sex, what did you have in mind?”

“An evening under the stars spent laughing and dining with a ravishingly handsome elf who knows an astonishing amount of love poetry,” Zevran offered.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Cassandra said turning toward Zevran while still holding a sword in her hand.

Zevran glanced at the sword and answered, “I am. Although I might be more comfortable doing so in the future, if you would lower your weapon.”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. “Are you doing this on some sort of dare?”

“Of course not. I appreciate beauty and passion. You have both. Why should I not try to woo you?”

“You want to _woo_ me,” Cassandra stated with disbelief.

“Absolutely. I find you fascinating - so much so that I have kept from pursuing others since I set my sights on you,” Zevran confided. 

“Alright. I accept, but if you try anything sneaky...” Cassandra warned while pointing her sword at Zevran’s crotch.

“Message received. So many people assume I have no manners being raised first in a whorehouse and then an assassin’s guild, but I am quite the gentleman,” Zevran said with a wink and leapt to his feet in a single fluid motion. “Now I must go get ready for our first night together.”

“I agreed to dinner, Zevran. Nothing more,” Cassandra emphasized.

“Ah yes, but I’ve always found it best to be well prepared. You never know when an opportunity will present itself,” he answered and then disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“Arrogant rogue,” Cassandra hissed and then smiled when she was sure there was no one to see her.

******************

Dorian was throwing his clothes on in a hurry while Bull leaned back against the headboard of his bed.

“You don’t have to race out of here, you know,” Bull said while watching Dorian comb his hands through his hair. “We could go downstairs and have a drink.”

“I should have made you come to my room. I nearly had a heart attack when someone started banging on the door,” Dorian huffed.

“Well, the doors are supposed to be left unlocked during daylight hours, so the guards can move along the battlements,” Bull retorted. “They’re well trained enough to march through quickly if I’m busy in here. You’re the one that’s squeamish about people knowing.”

“Being discrete doesn’t mean I’m squeamish,” Dorian threw back.

“So I can go downstairs and raise a toast to my Tevinter lover, and you wouldn’t mind?” Bull said while standing up and stretching.

“Go right ahead although people will assume you’re referring to Krem,” Dorian said hoping to call Bull’s bluff.

“Good point I’ll make sure to mention you by name,” Bull answered with a wry grin.

“Bull...” Dorian began.

“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything, but you need to think about why being open bothers you so much,” Bull said while giving Dorian a knowing stare.

“Nehn and the inner circle know after your persistent hinting in Emprise du Lion. Isn’t that enough?” Dorian snarled.

“Cole would have said something if I didn’t. At least I got a few laughs out of the deal,” Bull answered.

“At my expense... thank you very much,” Dorian groused.

“You weren’t complaining when I made it up to you later,” Bull teased.

Dorian tossed Bull his voluminous pants, “These things make you look like a clown.”

“If I wear anything tighter, its too distracting for the common folk. I could make an exception for you sometime,” Bull smirked.

“As if I need to see you in tight pants to get distracted,” Dorian said with a sly grin of his own. “I shall see you later I suppose.”

“Only if you leave your door unlocked tonight,” Bull replied.

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Dorian said with a flourish as he exited Bull’s room onto Skyhold’s battlements.

***********************

Fenris and Isabela arrived at Skyhold three days later. They were sitting around Varric’s table in the great hall when Cullen walked by on his way to visit Nehn. He stopped when he saw them and reached over to shake Fenris‘ hand.

“It’s good to see you, Fenris. I appreciate your coming,” Cullen said.

Isabela slid up to Cullen and whispered in his ear, “Aren’t you happy to see me, too? The Ferelden air is treating you well. You look even more delicious than I remembered.”

“Bela, it _is_ good to see you. I hope you are well,” Cullen said stiffly as he scooted away from her.

“What-I don’t even get a kiss hello?” she fumed.

“I ...um... well....” Cullen began while turning pink and staring at the ground.

“What Curly is trying and failing to say is that he’s involved with someone,” Varric interceded to Cullen’s relief. 

Isabela’s annoyance turned to amusement. “Oh, this is rich. So you finally found yourself someone pious enough to meet your exacting standards? What is she - a _lay_ sister?” Isabela asked while intending the double entendre. “Maybe this dearie would be open to sharing? It’s been quite awhile since I’ve had a templar. The stamina ...”

“Bela, I’m quite sure she wouldn’t care for that suggestion. When you meet her, please try to keep things toned down. Maybe wear more clothes?” Cullen suggested.

“You never complained about the way I dressed before,” Isabela said while shoving her breasts out further. “So where is this insecure tart?”

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt the onset of a massive headache. “I’ll take you to meet her now. Fenris, you’ll want to come as well, since you’ll be traveling together.”

“Wait - you’re boning the Inquisitor herself?” Isabela laughed. “A Dalish mage? And you- the Templar Order’s golden boy?”

“I’m no longer a templar,” Cullen said steadily then lowered his voice to where only Isabela could hear, “And the rest is none of your business.”

“Touchy, touchy ... alright I’ll be on my best behavior,” Isabela said with a wink.

Fenris looked at Cullen with disgust. “Of all the people... for you to neglect your vows and turn to a mage.”

“It’s just like old times already. Rivaini’s trying to get laid, and Broody is bitching about mages. Some things never change,” Varric said with exasperation.

“Do you want to come with us, Varric?” Cullen asked.

“As entertaining as it might be, I think I’ll stay clear of this round of introductions, Curly.”

_I wish I could,_ Cullen thought as he directed a seething Fenris and a mischievous Isabela toward the Inquisitor’s quarters. Cullen stopped to speak with the guard outside the door leading to Nehn’s room.

“Elindra is wanting her to walk around some, so we pulled the guard off the stairwell, Commander. Regardless of what she tells you, she is still confined to her apartments,” the guard advised.

“Thank you for the warning. I’m sure she’d have talked me into taking her to the courtyard otherwise.”

When Nehn’s three visitors reached the top of the stairwell, they found her asleep curled up like a cat on top of a pile of pillows on her bed. Cullen fought to suppress a laugh. _She figured out a way to sleep on nothing but pillows._ He cleared his throat, and Nehn stirred slightly. When she didn’t rouse, he called out, “Inquisitor,” and Nehn sat up quickly toppling her pile of pillows and landing on the floor.

“Fenedhis!” she cursed as she popped up off the floor with a full barrier surrounding her, spirit blade drawn. Seeing who was before her, she lowered the barrier and the spectral blade disappeared. “You didn’t have to sneak up on me.”

“We weren’t quiet. You were just sleeping soundly. Would you like us to return later?” Cullen asked.

Nehn smoothed her hair and walked over to her guests. She looked at Fenris and smiled. “Thank you so much for coming.”

Fenris gave her a penetrating stare and replied, “Inquisitor.” 

Nehn’s eyes turned toward Isabela who was wearing a low cut, thin linen tunic that left blessedly little to the imagination. She scanned Isabela’s body and then gave Cullen a look that immediately sent his hand to the back of his neck.

“You must be Isabela,” Nehn said while angling her head to the side. “Were you shipwrecked?”

“Not recently - why?” Isabela asked.

“I was trying to think of a reason most of your clothes might be missing,” Nehn answered with narrowed eyes.

Isabela leaned against Cullen. “Oh, dearie, I often wear much less than this. Isn’t that right, Cullen?”

“This is behaving?” Cullen asked as he stepped away from Isabela and beside Nehn.

“She started it,” Isabela argued.

“I can finish it as well,” Nehn hissed, and Cullen caught her by the elbow before she could launch at Isabela.

“Feisty,” Isabela commented. 

“I’ll show you feisty,” Nehn snarled, but Cullen had already cinched her about the waist with his arm.

“I’m taking this opportunity to remind you of how your fist fight with Bianca went,” Cullen said through gritted teeth as Nehn struggled to get free.

“Wait- you fought Bianca?” Isabela asked.

“I leveled the bitch,” Nehn said while trying wiggle out of Cullen’s vise grip on her.

“I always wanted to do that, but I could never work up the nerve. Cullen, I like her,” Isabela announced while Nehn relaxed.

“I wasn’t looking for your approval,” Cullen said while still keeping an arm around Nehn. He didn’t trust that the Inquisitor wouldn’t change her mind and go after Isabela if given the opportunity.

“Is this childish display of jealousy typical behavior for you?’ Fenris questioned Nehn.

“Why does every other elf I meet have to be an arrogant ass?” Nehn griped to no one in particular. She turned toward Fenris and snipped, “No, I don’t _always_ act like this, _Broody_. This only happens when I wake up to find a tramp in my room.”

Isabela threw her head back and laughed. “She certainly isn’t Merrill. This one isn’t a kitten. She’s a full grown cat with sharp claws.”

Just as Cullen feared, Nehn again tried to get at Isabela, so he tightened his grip on her. “You are recovering from a life-threatening injury. Calm yourself,” he ordered which had the opposite effect on Nehn.

“Don’t take that as an insult, dearie. I like cats.” Isabela purred. “And to make things completely clear, I’ll stay away from Cullen. I don’t play where I’m not wanted.”

Nehn ceased her struggle and smiled. “In that case, welcome to Skyhold,” she said while extending a hand to Isabela. Unconvinced that Nehn wasn’t simply trying to lower his guard, Cullen kept a hold on her until Isabela shook her hand. Only then did Cullen let go, but not before whispering something in Nehn’s ear that made her blush and bite her lip. 

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Isabela announced to Fenris who sulked down the stairs behind her. “Have fun, Kitty,” she called up the stairwell before she opened the door and left.

Isabela stopped by Varric’s table. “I like Cullen’s little kitty cat.”

“Sassy? Yeah, she’s great - just stay on her good side,” Varric cautioned.

“I could see how that would be important. He seems happy with her.”

“Curly? He’s so head over heels he doesn’t know his ass from his forehead,” Varric chuckled.

Fenris leaned against the fireplace with his arms crossed. “I’m unimpressed. Just another mage with a bad temper. On top of that, she’s Dalish. They care for nothing but history.”

“Give her a chance, Broody. I’ve got money wagered that she’ll be able to bring you around. My winnings would be enough to pay off what you owe me,” Varric suggested.

“Everything I owe you?” Fenris asked.

“Down to the last copper,” Varric said while kicking his feet up on the table.


	74. Chapter 74

Fenris, Varric, and Isabela walked toward the Herald’s Rest tavern. “Now I’ve got to warn you... it isn’t the Hanged Man,” Varric began. “It lacks the same piss-and-vomit-smelling ambiance of our old place, and the ale is worse. The food is decent, though.”

“Who goes to a bar to eat?” Isabela asked and then stopped just outside the door to the tavern. She sashayed toward a dark haired woman who was relentlessly attacking training dummies while being watched by a blond elf who was eating an apple.

“Zevran!” she called out while jauntily resting a hand on her hip.

The elf glanced over at Isabela, tossed his apple aside, spoke to the woman near him, and hopped to his feet to greet his old friend.

“If it isn’t my favorite pirate queen!” Zevran exclaimed. “Isabela, Scourge of the Waking Sea and The Pearl’s finest jewel, meet Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast, Dragon Slayer and Heart Taker.” He winked at Cassandra as he finished her title.

“You’re the menace that took Varric hostage,” Isabela accused.

“He was not a hostage. I brought him from Kirkwall to speak with the Divine,” Cassandra growled.

“Whatever you want to call it, he wasn’t dragged across a continent freely, but I’m not here to speak with you anyway,” Isabela said with a sneer and then eyed Zevran coyly. “I’m here to catch up with an old friend. How about it, Zev? A romp for old times’ sake?”

“Ah, Isabela, you present such a tempting offer, but I must decline,” Zevran answered with a bow.

“You? Pass up sex?” Isabela questioned with amazement.

“I have merely chosen to confine my affections to one person for the time being,” Zevran explained. “It is more difficult than I expected, and your presence makes it even more so. However, I am committed to earning a place in her heart as well as her bed,” Zevran said while taking Cassandra’s hand a kissing it. Cassandra, for her part, couldn’t hide the girlish flush to her cheeks or the smile that crept across her normally stony face.

Isabela’s mouth fell open. Cullen’s refusal was a disappointment but not entirely unexpected. Zevran’s, on the other hand, was mind blowing. She walked away without further comment while wondering if she was losing her touch. Surely, she would better luck in the bar.

After she entered the Herald’s Rest, Isabela scanned the room for potential quarry. When she spotted the Iron Bull leaning against a wall in the back of the tavern, a sly grin crept across her face. His appetites were well known, and she figured it was as good of time as any to try a little bull riding herself.

Varric and Fenris watched as Isabela inched up to Bull and flirted unabashedly. He chatted with her amiably for some time before she slunk away dejected. Plopping down beside Varric with resignation she declared, “This place has the worst case of monogamy I’ve ever encountered.”

“Cheer up, Rivaini. You’ve just hit rough waters. I’m sure you’ll find someone to swab you deck soon. In the meantime, have a drink and catch me up on your adventures,” Varric encouraged while pouring an ale for the disheartened pirate.

Varric’s prediction proved accurate when Isabela sauntered out of the bar later that night with a young soldier on each arm while proclaiming, “I’ve still got it.”

********************

When Nehn had been given clearance by Elindra to resume work, she called her entire inner circle to the war room to coordinate their movements. “Solas, Zevran, Fenris, and I will be using the eluvian network to move quickly around Thedas. Sera, you are still welcome to join us,” Nehn offered.

“Pffft... I’m not walking through some ultra-elfy magic mirrors. Roads work just fine for me,” Sera countered, and Nehn sighed.

“Anyway, we will use the time saved traveling to investigate elven ruins as well as handle some matters for Josephine and Leliana. Cassandra, I would like you to head toward Caer Oswin with Sera and Cole. There is an eluvian in between the fort and Crestwood. I will meet you there after examining the temple Solas located. Helaine has volunteered to accompany you if you feel you need a mage.”

“Bull, I’m sending Dorian and Varric with you to Crestwood. We’ll tackle the dragon after I finish helping Cassandra’s team. Once we’ve done that, most of the threats to Ferelden should be addressed, and we can turn our attentions toward Orlais,” Nehn explained.

“Josie, I haven’t forgotten about your couriers...” Nehn started but was interrupted when the war room door burst open as a contingent of guards poured into the room and a blood splattered but uninjured Asha ran toward her mother crying.

“The Inquisitor’s family has been attacked,” one of the guards reported to Cullen. “We’ve found and secured everyone but Falon.”

Nehn, who was clutching a trembling Asha to her chest, paled visibly and looked at Cullen with fear-filled eyes. “Find him,” she ordered. He saluted with a hand to his chest and took off with his guards to better organize the search. Leliana followed closely behind to set her agents to the same task.

“What do you want us to do?” Bull asked.

“I need to know what happened first. Asha, emma lath, tell me,” Nehn said while smoothing Asha’s hair and wiping her tears away.

“Ser Lysette was watching me practice my spells. There were some servants I didn’t recognize nearby, but I didn’t think anything about it. All of a sudden, they were coming at us with knives. Lysette told me to run, but I couldn’t move. And then one of them started to slash at me with a dagger, and I....” Asha began sobbing hard.

“I’m sorry for making you relive a bad memory, but I need to know, brave girl,” Nehn soothed.

“I... I froze him, and then Lysette hit him with her sword and there was ice and blood everywhere. I don’t want to be a templar anymore. I don’t want to be a mage anymore,” Asha cried and buried her head in her mother’s chest.

One of the guards had stayed back with Asha. “We made it on the scene around that time, Inquisitor. Lysette took the other attacker down but got a grave injury in doing so. The healers have her now, but we think the blade may have been poisoned. The only other detail I can add is that we heard the second assailant proclaiming her actions were for the Qun.”

“Shit,” Bull hissed. “I knew they’d come after me, Boss. I didn’t think they’d go after you much less your kids. Listen, Lysette has likely been exposed to saar-qamek. I’ve got the antidote. If we get it to her in time...”

“Go, now. Help Lysette. We’ll talk about what this means later,” Nehn commanded while rocking Asha.

“One of the other guards said Sionn and Sylvia were safe? Where are they? What happened?” Nehn asked.

“They’re secured in your quarters with a full complement of our best men. The assassins went after Sylvia while she was working in the kennels. Needless to say, the mabari didn’t take kindly to people running with knives toward her. She didn’t receive a scratch although there isn’t much left of those that tried to hurt her.”

“As far as your son-in-law, Dagna noticed that some of the new smiths were acting dodgy. She had them paralyzed using some sort of rune as soon as they pulled their weapons. We’ve got them in the dungeons. I expect Leliana’s people are questioning them now.”

“And Falon? He had today off from duty, but I don’t know what his plans were. I should have asked,” she said with rising panic.

“Falon is healthy, whole. He doesn’t know he’s missing, but he doesn’t want to be found,” Cole stated, and Nehn started crying in relief.

“Why doesn’t he want to be found, and can you take us to him?” Nehn asked.

“Falon’s with her, and you wouldn’t approve because he’s young,” Cole said.

“A boy after my own heart!” Zevran exclaimed and then became more subdued when Cassandra glared at him.

“Mythal’s mercy! I don’t care what he’s doing. Just let Cullen know where he is, so Falon can get home safely,” Nehn choked out through her tears. “I’ll be in my quarters with Sylvia and Asha.”

A little over an hour later, an ashen faced Falon and a contrite looking Scout Harding were standing before Nehn with Cullen and Leliana behind them. Nehn was shocked that Falon had been passing time with Scout Harding - not because she was a dwarf but that she had somehow seduced her son. Nehn sent Asha to another room with Sylvia before turning her attention to the wayward pair. 

“Explain yourself,” Nehn ordered Scout Harding with a cool edge to her voice.

“Look, I know he’s young. I wanted to get to him before someone else did,” Scout admitted.

Nehn’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe that Lace was being so cavalier about taking her son’s virginity. “How could you? He’s barely more than a child. And Falon, I know she may have talked you into thinking it was a good idea, but this is a severe breach of trust.”

“Actually, it was my idea, Mamae,” Falon responded his eyes fixed on the floor.

“Fenedhis! I know it’s hard to resist urges at your age, but you really should have waited until you were more emotionally capable of handling the consequences,” Nehn said with obvious disappointment.

Cullen looked slightly confused at Nehn’s words but said nothing. Leliana cocked her head to the side as if thinking but also stayed silent.

Nehn collapsed behind her desk, and then rubbed her temples. “Please tell me that you at least used a contraceptive potion.”

Falon’s head snapped up, and Scout Harding looked aghast. Cullen chuckled, “There appears to be a misunderstanding. Falon, put your mother’s mind at ease.”

“We weren’t doing _that_ , Mamae,” Falon said his face flush with embarrassment. “She’s has been training me to be a scout. I know you wanted me to wait until I was older...”

“Oh, thank the Creators! I wasn’t ready to handle the other,” Nehn exhaled. “What you did, however, shows a disrespect for my wishes and a skirting of your commanding officer’s orders,” she continued sternly, and Falon’s eyes again fell to the floor.

Nehn tented her fingers and considered her options. Her relief at Falon being alive and uninjured made her want to sweep his disobedience aside, but if he wanted to play at being adult, he needed to face consequences like one. “I’m turning the matter of your discipline over to your commanding officers,” Nehn said to Falon and Scout Harding.

“Thank you, Inquisitor,” Falon said quietly still unable to meet his mother’s eyes while Scout Harding looked warily at Leliana who would be meting out her reprimand.

“Report to my office at dawn tomorrow,” Cullen said to Falon. “We’ll speak then.”

“Yes, sir,” Falon replied while standing straight and saluting. He looked toward his mother who held out her arms and then rushed toward her. “I really am sorry, Mamae. I would never want to worry you,” he whispered while hugging her tightly. 

She patted his back and advised, “Don’t be in such a rush to grow up, da’assan.”

Later that evening, Cullen, Leliana, and Bull asked Nehn to meet them in the war room for an update. Nehn was reluctant to leave Asha, who was still traumatized by the day’s events, but Cole appeared and offered to entertain her. “She still likes playing with dolls but doesn’t want anyone to know,” he said. 

Nehn smiled and thanked Cole before heading to the meeting.

Bull took the lead. “The Ben-Hassrath wanted to make a point more than anything. If they’d actually intended to be successful, they would have sent better agents. What type of moron attacks someone surrounded by mabari?”

“So what would their point be?” Nehn asked through gritted teeth.

“That they _could_ kill them if they wanted. It’s a mind game, Boss. A means to remind you of their displeasure and make you wary of crossing them again. When a Qunari becomes Tal Vashoth, the Ben Hassrath almost always sends an enforcer after him. I expected them to come for me. I’ve been proactively dosing myself with the antidote for saar-qamek even.” 

Bull looked at Nehn pleadingly. “Boss, if I had any idea that there would be an attempt against your family, I would have warned you. Kids and non-combatants are usually off limits. It’s possible this was a non-sanctioned mission.”

“Which means what?” Nehn said with irritation. She didn’t care what Qunari protocols were. She cared that agents had come after her family.

“It means that I will be sending word to their Arishok of what happened here,” Leliana replied. “We worked together during the Blight when I knew him as Sten. He is an honorable man. If this was intended as an act of war, he will not shy away from saying so.”

“Bull and I hope that this attack came without proper authorization or will be an action that the Qunari now choose to disavow if it wasn’t. Either way, we will make our position clear that they will face the full power of the Inquisition should they decide to move against us in the future,” Leliana finished.

“That’s it? They try to kill my children, and you send their boss a strongly worded letter?” Nehn shouted. 

“Technically, the Arishok isn’t their boss. He runs the military, the Antaam, which is separate from the Ben-Hassrath,” Bull pointed out.

Nehn grew even angrier. “Not helping,” she seethed.

Cullen spoke next. “Ideally, we need to de-escalate this situation. We don’t have the manpower to fight a war on two fronts. The good news is neither do the Qunari. The centuries long conflict with Tevinter has worn on them.”

“You can’t seriously be asking me to turn a blind eye to this,” Nehn said shaking with anger. The map markers on the war room table began to vibrate, and the candles in the room flamed like torches.

“Nehn...” Cullen said gently. The candle flames dimmed, the markers stopped dancing on the table, but Nehn remained shaking before them. Cullen tried to touch her, but her hand flew up in warning.

“Do as Leliana recommends,” she said and then left the room without speaking or looking at anyone.

“That went better than I thought it would. I’m glad she came around,” Leliana said while snuffing out the smoking candles. 

“I only hope she can forgive us for pushing her to,” Cullen replied with a worried expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for over 400 kudos and 7500 plus hits. That makes me very, very happy.
> 
> Isabela got her groove back while drama found the Lavellan's once again. So should Cullen approach Nehn immediately or give her space? Let me know what you think he would do (as well as what he should do if different.). I'm still trying to decide the answer to those questions myself.


	75. Chapter 75

After Nehn left the war room, Cullen deliberated for a few minutes about whether he should try to speak to her that night or let things wait until morning. He wasn’t even sure what he would want her to do if their positions were reversed. The recommendation he made to her wasn’t an easy one for him. Seeing Asha so frightened had ignited a righteous rage in him that had only been quelled when he let his mind think through the implications of responding too rashly. Some part of Nehn had already acknowledged that reality because she had accepted Leliana’s course of action. He decided he at least needed to make an effort to approach her sooner rather than later. 

He first stopped by the door to her apartments and checked with the guard to see if she had gone back to her family. As he suspected, the guard told him that he saw her leave the great hall a few minutes earlier. Taking off in a jog, he headed down the stairs toward the upper courtyard. His first instinct would have been to head to the dungeons to check her quiet spot, but a glowing light by the tavern caught his eye. The odd blue tint was unmistakeable - magelight. He headed toward the glow and saw Nehn silhouetted in front of the archery targets she had illuminated. Bow in hand, she was releasing arrow after arrow at them with singular intensity.

Cullen slowed his pace and approached her noisily. The last thing he wanted to do was sneak up on her after the day’s events. She turned slightly, glared at him, and then returned to shooting arrows. Cullen stood nearby and waited for her to run out of arrows or anger - whichever came first. She had made a thorough raid of the armory he noted. Five full quivers were leaning against the tavern wall in addition to the one on her back. After running through three quivers, she spoke to him briefly. “I wanted to go calm down in the dungeon, but I was scared I’d kill the prisoners on the way to our spot,” she explained as she picked up the fourth quiver and resumed shooting.

Cullen folded his arms and nodded. He had initially gone to assist with Leliana’s interrogation, but the spymaster had sent him away saying he was too emotionally charged to be helpful. After the fourth quiver of arrows, Nehn conjured some healing magic and pushed it into her bad shoulder. Nehn appeared much calmer to Cullen, but he resisted the urge to speak. She would talk when she was ready. Starting on the fifth quiver, she pulled her bowstring taut and then began to curse while shaking her right hand. “I bloodied myself,” she said holding her hand out to Cullen.

Nehn was a talented healer. Cullen knew she could repair whatever damage she had done to her hand without a thought. What she wanted was for him to come closer and comfort her, so he obliged. He took her hand carefully and examined it. “You broke through a callous. Do you want me to get some bandages?” he asked.

She pulled her hand back and instantaneously healed herself. “No, but you can help me collect these arrows.” Cullen smirked slightly. If she was putting him to work, she had cooled off considerably. He filled three quivers, and Nehn took care of the rest and then handed them to him to carry. “I need to return these to the armory,” she said. He followed her silently as she returned the borrowed bow and arrows.

“I don’t care if Bull says it was a half-hearted attempt. I could have lost them all today, and now my baby girl has to deal with having blood on her hands. And I get to explain to them why I won’t be retaliating on their behalf when I’ve traipsed across Thedas doing everyone else’s bidding,” Nehn said in a voice that waivered between exhaustion and self-loathing.

The Commander in Cullen wanted to outline all the strategic reasons why their chosen course of action was warranted, but the man that loved Nehn knew better even if he didn’t know what he was supposed to do or say. He grabbed the back of his neck and furrowed his forehead in thought. “Tell me what you need. I have no clue how to help.”

In the next instant, she was pressed against him burying her face in the fur trim of his new coat. “Promise me you’ll find all the conspirators and close up any gaps in our defenses.”

“Absolutely. Leliana has already launched an investigation, and I will be hand-picking the details assigned to your family from now on as well as personally eye-balling ever soldier, merchant, or servant that has recently joined us in Skyhold. What else do you need?”

“Until Lysette recovers, Asha will require a new protector once I leave.. Cole is with her now. He has agreed to watch over her at night, but during the day... I don’t trust his judgment to oversee her when she’s awake. The mages I’ve interviewed as potential nannies before aren’t combat trained, and I can’t bear to think of what would have happened if they had been with Asha rather than Lysette. I can delay leaving for a few days, but I can’t stay as much as I want to,” Nehn said with a quivering voice.

“Do you want me to watch her?” Cullen asked, and Nehn nodded her head vigorously and gasped a bit for air.

“I’d be honored. In fact, it would put my mind at ease. She’s the closest thing to a daughter I’ll probably ever have...” Cullen started and then had to stop speaking as a strange knot appeared in his throat as his eyes started to burn a bit. He cleared his throat and said, “What else?”

“Stay with me tonight. I can’t do this on my own any more. It’s just... it’s too much,” Nehn said as the tears she had been fighting back broke free.

Cullen held her tightly and kissed the top of her head. “Of course, I’ll stay with you, and I’ll go when and if you tell me to leave. Anything you need- you have only to ask.”

Nehn stopped sobbing although she was still snubbing hard. Cullen wiped some of her tears away and said, “I’d offer my handkerchief, but my allergies have been acting up.”

Nehn snorted. “That’s disgusting but very sweet nonetheless.” 

She took Cullen’s hand and started toward the main keep. The Commander in him thought the public display of affection unprofessional, but if she needed him to be more open about their relationship, he would do it even though he dreaded the reaction of his soldiers. To Cullen’s relief, the guards throughout Skyhold kept their eyes forward and their faces expressionless as the couple walked by with their hands laced together. 

Nehn went to her children’s rooms first. She opened the door to Falon’s room quietly and saw that he was asleep in his hammock. The only indicator that he had been affected by the day’s events was the sheathed dagger he was wearing in a belt around his night clothes. Nehn rested her hand against the door to Sylvia and Sionn’s room but didn’t open it. They had each other and didn’t need her inserting herself in their lives. 

Asha’s room was the last one she visited, and it’s door was open. Cole sat cross-legged in the doorway. He looked at Nehn and then smiled when he saw Cullen beside her.

“Asha is slumbering sweetly, soundly. I will keep her safe. I will keep them all safe,” he promised. 

Nehn bent down and kissed his cheek. “You’re a wonder, Cole. Thank you,” she whispered.

“Let him carry your concerns. Helping helps him like it does me. We don’t mind. It makes us happy, whole,” Cole added referencing Cullen, who agreed with the spirit/man’s insight.

Leaving her children’s quarters, Nehn and Cullen returned to the landing that separated their rooms from the stairwell leading to Nehn’s. Cullen groaned inwardly when he noticed Chaff was posted outside Nehn’s room. If anyone would want to comment on his late night visit, the mouthy guard would. Cullen didn’t understand Nehn’s affection for the man or her insistence that he always be posted outside her room while on duty, but he had learned not to question the Inquisitor about such things long before they were a couple. Nehn always had her reasons.

“Anything to report?” Cullen asked Chaff hoping to keep their interaction as professional as possible.

“Nothing except I’m glad you brought her back. I was beginning to worry that she’d chartered a boat to Par Vollen to challenge the Arishok to single combat,” Chaff replied, and Nehn’s face lit up as if she were considering the idea.

“Don’t even think about it,” Cullen warned, and she stuck her tongue out in response.

“Don’t worry, Commander. I’ll keep her safe tonight, **and** I won’t let her rent that boat,” Chaff added as Nehn unlocked the door.

When Cullen followed Nehn through the doorway, Chaff kept the door open and called after Nehn. “Does a little bird need to hear this song?” he asked.

“Go ahead and tell her,” Nehn replied, and Chaff saluted.

“What was that about?” Cullen asked after the door closed behind them.

“Did you ever read reports compiled by someone codenamed _Thresher_?” Nehn quizzed.

Cullen’s eyes widened. Thresher was one of the agents that followed Nehn’s movements in Haven when they were unsure of her loyalty. Thresher’s name had suddenly stopped appearing on reports, and Cullen assumed that he had been one of the many killed at Haven or had been reassigned once Leliana felt Nehn could be trusted.

Nehn grinned at Cullen’s surprise, “I gave Chaff his new nickname. I told him that he should better learn to separate the wheat from the chaff if he went around gleaning information in his spare time. We came to an agreement. He passes along enough information to keep our spymaster content, and I have some semblance of privacy in my home.”

“Surely, Leliana knows...” Cullen said.

“Of course she does, but she also knows that I’ll be suspicious of anyone that regularly serves near me or my family. Chaff is our compromise. She occasionally tries to get a new agent assigned to me, but I ferret them out pretty quickly. Parsons was her latest attempt. That one couldn’t scurry up to the rookery fast enough after we had her wait on the balcony,” Nehn continued.

“But how did you know she went to see Leliana?” Cullen asked then answered his own question. “Ah - Dorian.”

“Actually Solas that time, but between the two of them I know everyone out of the ordinary that talks to the spymaster in person. I would have chosen one of the empty towers for my headquarters, but Leliana adores listening in on the mages’ conversations. Trade offs I suppose” Nehn said with a shrug. “Anyway, I had a discussion with Leliana, and now Parsons operates under the same protocols as Chaff.”

“Does it upset you that Leliana keeps spying on you?” 

“No, I have no secrets left, and few thoughts related to the Inquisition enter my mind without passing through my lips in the war room. Leliana isn’t so much spying as keeping track of my wellbeing at this point. I appreciate it on some level even though I’ll expose every agent I notice just to prove a point about respecting my privacy,” Nehn added with a crooked smile. 

“Maker’s breath, you’re something else. Playing spy versus spy with the likes of Justinia’s Left Hand.”

“A girl’s got to have a hobby. I tried to take up whittling again, but my heart wasn’t in it. And you can only shoot so many arrows or read so many smutty books...” Nehn teased.

Cullen chuckled and put his arms around Nehn’s waist. She started to cuddle up to him and then declared, “You have an armor stand, Commander. See that it’s put to good use. I’m going to take a bath and get ready for bed.”

Nehn gathered her nightclothes from the closet as Cullen took off his armor. He was again perplexed by what he should do. Was her declaration about bathing an invitation or an announcement? Was he to get ready to sleep or something else? And even if they were just sleeping... what was he to wear? His preference was to sleep nude but that would make it seem like he was there for sex rather than emotional support.

As if she read his mind, Nehn wrapped an arm about his waist and said, “Leave your smalls on. We’re still operating under the keeping clothed rule.”

His brief relief at knowing her expectations was interrupted when she squeezed his rear before leaving to bathe. _Now that just isn’t playing fair,_ he thought as he heard her conjuring water in the small room next to the closet. He removed and folded his trousers and linen undershirt, then wandered around the room looking for something to occupy his mind other than the thought of Nehn naked. 

His eyes settled on the puzzle box which was sitting on her desk. He’d nearly solved it once. Maybe he could get it this time. Lounging on the sofa, he worked the wooden pieces around while Nehn splashed and hummed in the background. A spigot had been set up leading to Skyhold’s exterior, so Nehn could dispose of her bathwater without having to bail and carry it away. Cullen heard her letting the water out of the tub while continuing to hum, but he kept fiddling with the puzzle.

Nehn appeared a short while later wearing a silk nightgown covered by an intricately embroidered robe while drying her hair with a towel. When she saw Cullen stretched out on her couch, his muscular form illuminated by firelight, she considered letting her clothes just fall to the floor. _Too many emotions already today, Nehn. Not a good idea,_ she advised herself although she couldn’t stop staring wantonly at Cullen. 

Cullen noticed her gaze and smiled before returning his attention to the box. She’d been so enthralled by his body that she hadn’t even noticed what he was doing. She was about to warn him not to solve it when he triumphantly exclaimed, “I got it!” and held the opened box in the air. Then he said with disappointment, “It’s empty.”

Nehn laughed and walked over to the couch. She patted Cullen’s leg to get him to make room for her to sit down and the settled beside him. Taking the box out of his hand, she snuggled up to him as he put an arm around her. “It wasn’t always empty. It was part of Garel’s wedding present to me and held the necklace I gave to Sylvia on her wedding day,” she explained as she quickly worked the pieces back in place to close the box.

“He made that?” Cullen asked with noticeable awe.

“And the necklace. He was exceptionally talented,” she said while cradling the box in her hands.

“I wouldn’t have bothered it if I’d known,” Cullen said uncomfortably and began to look lost in thought.

“No, don’t do that to yourself,” Nehn said while touching his chest. “I spent several miserable months measuring myself against his first wife, Selah. Don’t compare yourself to him. You’re entirely different people, and I admire and love you both. One doesn’t diminish the other.”

“You love me?” Cullen questioned with a boyish grin.

Nehn let out an exasperated huff. “Of course, I do. You don’t have to gloat about it, though.”

“I’m not gloating. I’m happy. I love you, too. You know that - right?” he replied with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ve suspected it, but it never hurts to hear,” Nehn said while cuddling closer to him. 

He put a hand under her chin and gently kissed her. “Then I’ll do my best to remind you of it every day.”


	76. Chapter 76

Cullen couldn’t sleep. Nehn had slipped into the Fade seconds after she laid down beside him with her head on his shoulder. Cullen marveled at how she felt so insubstantial and tiny when the force of her personality wasn’t there to augment her size. The idea that she could take down dragons and rally armies seemed almost ludicrous. How someone so seemingly fragile could be so fierce brought a smile to his face. And she loved him - the lyrium addict, the mage hunter, the failed templar. She _knew_ him, and she still _loved_ him. It was nothing short of miraculous.

In addition to his excitement at her declaration of love, fear and worry were keeping him awake. He had to ensure that no one harmed her family. In their haste to build the Inquisition’s ranks and augment Skyhold’s services, they had not been cautious enough in vetting volunteers and recruits. That would need to change. He would need to speak with Bull and learn how to spot viddathari - the elven, human, and dwarven converts to the Qun - who were more likely to be used as spies.

His thoughts were interrupted by Nehn shifting closer and putting a leg over him. He had withstood the temptations of a desire demon for Maker knows how long in Kinloch Hold, but the feel of Nehn’s silk clad body was almost too much to resist. _She needs to rest, and she wants to take things slowly,_ he reminded himself. He tried to scoot out from under her, but she cuddled even more. Trying to ignore her soft breasts against his side, the weight of her leg on his groin, and her intoxicating smell, Cullen started reciting the Chant in his head. It didn’t help.

“Nehn, love, can you move over a bit?” he asked after squeezing her shoulder to rouse her.

“Mmm... okay,” she replied half asleep and rolled onto her side away from him which would have helped matters if she hadn’t kicked off her covers and twisted her nightdress around her waist in the process. He tried to keep from looking at her absolutely perfect and completely exposed ass, but she was wearing lace panties - _red_ lace panties. “Maker...” he sighed as he fought the urge to cup her rear in his hands. He turned facing away from Nehn, and tried to think of something to distract himself. Relentless snuggler that she was, Nehn was soon pressed tightly against him. _This isn’t working,_ he thought and got out of bed.

He went to the basin to splash his face, but there wasn’t any water. _Of course there isn’t, she’d just conjure it when needed..._ He settled for standing out on the balcony in just his smalls letting the frigid air cool his desires, and then returned to the room to try to sleep - on the couch this time. Exhaustion finally took hold of him, and he fell into a restless slumber - his tall, muscular frame being much too large to comfortably lay on the sofa.

Cullen woke up with a crick in his neck, and Nehn staring down at him with her hands on her hips. “How’d you end up on the sofa?” she quizzed.

“I was having a hard time sleeping and didn’t want to disturb you,” he answered tactfully.

“You’re so thoughtful,” she praised and leaned over to kiss him. He had been on good behavior for the entire night, but he couldn’t resist any longer. Grabbing her waist, he pulled her down on top of him before kissing and groping her with abandon. She started giggling at his fervent attentions, but soon was returning his every advance with equal ardor. Somehow he managed to stand with her wrapped around him, and then tossed her on the bed before climbing on top of her and nipping at her neck.

“I can stop,” he offered.

“I’ll kill you if you do,” she challenged as she wriggled out of her nightgown.

Cullen was trailing kisses down her neck and fondling her breasts when someone started banging on the door. They sprang apart like two teenagers caught in the act. Cullen headed to the closet to get dressed while Nehn wrapped a robe around herself and headed down the stairs to see who was at the door. It was Asha.

Chaff gave Nehn an apologetic look, “Sorry to interrupt your rest, Inquisitor. The little miss needed to see you.”

Nehn closed the door behind her and herded Asha back to her room where Cole was sitting in the floor playing jacks. “It’s well before dawn, da’len. Did you have a bad dream?”

“No, I had an _idea_ ,” Asha answered.

Nehn pressed her lips together and rubbed her temples. “And it couldn’t wait until breakfast?”

“I was scared I’d forget,” Asha explained.

“You could have written it down,” Nehn pointed out. “So what is this _idea_ of yours?”

“Falon and I should go with you the next time you leave. Then we can keep you safe,” Asha said.

Nehn looked at Asha sympathetically and smoothed her hair. “Yesterday was awful, da’len, but you would be even less secure traveling with me. I’ve spoken to Commander Cullen, and he is going to fill in for Lysette during the daytime.”

Asha’s face lit up. “I’ll get to stay with him all day?”

“All day. You’ll take your lessons right outside his office, and then study or play quietly while he works. It isn’t a play date, Asha. He has important business to manage, but we both know no one will keep you safer. He’s planning on having your brother entertain you when your homework is completed,” Nehn commented.

“But Falon has a job. He doesn’t have time to play,” Asha argued.

“Falon has been temporarily relieved from duty for disobedience. He’s being reassigned to keep you occupied,” Nehn whispered. “I’d advise lots of playing dolls and makeovers are in order,” she added conspiratorially.

Asha grew a mischievous grin. “We’ll be in the Commander’s office, though. All the soldiers - even that girl he likes - will know.” 

“That’s the idea, da’len. Sometimes embarrassment can be the most effective deterrent. Your brother is in too big of a rush to grow up, so he’s going to be forced to act like a child. Now back to bed, and the next time you have an idea in the middle of the night - write it down and save it for breakfast.”

Nehn breezed past Chaff shaking her head. “She’ll be the death of me,” was her sole comment as she unlocked the door and wearily climbed the stairs to her room.

Cullen was waiting and dressed. “Is everything okay?”

“Asha’s mind was just whirring. I think she’s settled for now. I guess that was your initiation into the Lavellan clan. I can’t tell you the number of times Garel and I were interrupted. I’m sorry,” Nehn said while standing on her tiptoes to kiss Cullen.

“I’d love to stay, but I need to be in my office before Falon arrives,” Cullen replied reluctantly.

“Asha has been clued in to our plan for him. I can guarantee she’ll keep him well occupied as well as humbled.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Cullen chuckled. He stroked Nehn’s cheek while thinking _I'm a blessed man._ "No war council today. Will I see you later?”

“I’ll be by your office sometime in the late evening. Before then I’ll be sorting things out with Asha and checking in with my inner circle. I don’t know which is harder to manage. Thank you for being there for me last night.”

“I was glad to,” Cullen answered and then remembered that Nehn liked hearing how he felt. “I love you and will see you tonight.”

Nehn smiled from ear to ear in response. “So that part wasn’t a dream. I love you, too. And you’ll definitely see me tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So should Nehn crack out the red leathers or make Cullen (and herself) wait longer? Let me know what you think.


	77. Chapter 77

Sylvia was sitting on the sofa in Nehn’s room mending clothes while waiting for her mother to finish bathing. When Nehn came out and noticed the mabari spread out on her rug, she gave Sylvia a withering glare. “Do you have to bring that dog with you everywhere?” Nehn griped while Sylvia’s mabari, Ginger, gave a mournful howl.

“Ginger is imprinted on me, and she’s just a baby,” Sylvia argued while scratching the dog behind the ears.

“A baby doesn’t smell as bad as Ginger,” Nehn replied wrinkling her nose which made Ginger whimper. “But Ginger and the other dogs saved your life, so I guess she’s welcome,” Nehn added which made Ginger bark happily. “Just know I won’t tolerate halla in the house.”

“You can’t house train halla. Believe me, I’ve tried,” Sylvia quipped. “So Mamae, are you getting ready for bed early or something else?” she questioned with a knowing smirk.

Nehn closed her eyes and shook her head. Sylvia was grown and married, but to Nehn she would always be the six year old that liked to pretend dirt was magic dust. Nehn in no way wanted to discuss intimate matters with her, but Sylvia would badger her until she at least admitted she was getting ready to see Cullen.

“I’m going to see Cullen if you must know,” Nehn said sharply.

“Should I expect you back here tonight?” Sylvia asked clearly enjoying watching her mother squirm.

“Mythal’s mercy!” Nehn exclaimed and snapped her towel at Sylvia, who cackled with glee.

“I know he spent the night here last night, so...” Sylvia began.

Nehn plopped on the couch beside her daughter. “You don’t really want to hear the details of your mother’s sex life - do you?”

“I don’t need _all_ the details. I’m just curious if you’ve sheathed the Commander’s sword,” Sylvia teased while Nehn’s ears went pink.

“Fenedhis! Where did you learn such talk?” Nehn chastised. “And no, I haven’t.”

“But you’re hoping to soon...” Sylvia giggled. “I’m just here to remind you to take this beforehand,” she added while passing Nehn a contraceptive potion. “You can have my full supply. I won’t be needing it for awhile.”

“Why not? Are you trying to get pregnant?” Nehn asked with a mixture of concern and excitement.

“No. I already am,” Sylvia smiled, and Nehn squealed with joy.

“Are you sure?” Nehn asked.

“Yes. I’ve missed two cycles, and I can’t get near the halla pens without throwing up.”

Nehn hugged Sylvia tightly and then started bouncing with anticipation. “That settles it. I’ve got a deadline for finishing off Corypheus. No one is going to keep me from my grandchild.”

Sylvia’s face fell a bit. “Mamae, we’re returning to the clan. We want the baby to grow up Dalish, and it’s too hard to keep the old ways in Skyhold. We’d been talking about it already, but what happened yesterday cemented our decision. It isn’t any safer here than with the clan, and we both miss our old lives.”

Nehn fought back tears. “I’m happy for you, da’len, and I understand your choice even if it saddens me.”

“You can still visit, and I hope that you’ll be able to come and stay for awhile when the baby is due,” Sylvia encouraged.

“Of course, da’len. I will be there,” Nehn said patting Sylvia’s leg. “When do you plan to leave?”

“As soon as possible, travel will only get more difficult as the months pass,” Sylvia said sadly.

“There have been some issues in Wycome and with the clan that the Inquisition has been handling. If you can delay leaving until the dust settles, it would be safer. And don’t worry about travel, I have a way to cut down on that significantly if you’re up for a bit of an adventure,” Nehn offered. 

She cradled Sylvia’s face in her hands and continued, “I will miss you when you go, da’len, but I won’t press you to stay if that isn’t what you want. Just know that you always have a home here.” Nehn took a shuddering breath and hugged Sylvia.

“We’ll talk more later, Mamae. Ar lath ma,” Sylvia whispered while returning her mother’s embrace. As she stood to leave, Sylvia reminded, “Don’t forget that potion. That’s how I ended up like this in the first place.”

“I’ll be cautious,” Nehn said with the tiniest hint of annoyance. She hugged Sylvia again while telling her she loved her, and then whispered to Sylvia’s stomach “Ar lath ma, da’len.”

When Sylvia had left the room, Nehn let the tears fall freely. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep her family together. _At least you’ve had them here the past few months,_ she reminded herself. _They didn’t have to come at all._ But it didn’t help. She started to cry harder wondering if there was some way she could have made them feel more welcome or less alienated. _Skyhold will never be the clan. Nearly everyone is Andrastian. Most of the elves barely know five words of our language,_ Nehn told herself although the reasons for their departure didn’t make it any less painful.

When she had finally run out of tears, Nehn got dressed in a yellow robe and braided her hair. She had originally planned to put on her red leathers and seduce Cullen, but Sylvia’s news had put a damper on her mood. Maybe it was for the best. Her life was always a complicated mess. Did she really need to drag Cullen into it further? Just in case, she took a sip of Sylvia’s potion. _Better safe than sorry, and you nearly had sex this morning without it. The last thing you need to be right now is pregnant._

When she went in his office, Cullen was surrounded by his officers receiving reports and handing out assignments. She sat at her table in the corner and tried to organize her thoughts while staring at a candle. Nehn was so lost in her introspection that she didn’t notice the room had emptied. Cullen put a hand on her shoulder, and she startled.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“When isn’t there? Why do you even want to be involved with me? There’s always drama,” she answered bitterly.

“Is this about the assassination attempts? Leliana found four additional conspirators. She is fairly certain that is all of them, but we’ll keep looking.”

“Not exactly. It’s just ...” she sighed. “My life is never going to be simple. I’m always going to be stretched thin by my family and the Inquisition. You deserve someone that can dedicate herself to you fully. Not a person that struggles to hold things together.”

“I know that you have huge responsibilities, and that I will always have to share you. It may seem like there will always be something going wrong, but some day we will have a chance to breathe,” Cullen said while running a thumb reassuringly over the top of her hand.

“Cullen, I’m an absolute wreck. I cry too easily. I hog the bed. I have an incurable sweet tooth. I hate rain and snow. My temper is short and unpredictable. I’m jealous natured. I’m a terror to deal with when I’m sick or hurt. I speak my mind too freely. I have pitifully small boobs,” Nehn enumerated her flaws.

“I’ve known nearly all of those things about you for months, and I haven’t been scared off. Also I like your breasts just fine thank you very much. What’s brought this on, Nehn?”

“Sylvia’s leaving. She and Sionn are returning to the clan,” Nehn answered with a quivering lower lip.

“They may change their minds. It’s probably just a knee jerk reaction to yesterday’s events,” Cullen reasoned.

“No, she’s pregnant. They want to raise the baby according to Dalish traditions and in a clan. What happened yesterday just sped up their timetable for departing,” Nehn countered with obvious heartbreak. 

“So are you thinking of returning to the clan once Corypheus is defeated?” Cullen asked cautiously. “Could you go back?’

“They might take me back, but I don’t want to go,” Nehn replied.

“Because of the Inquisition,” Cullen ventured.

“No, because of _you._ ” Nehn said emphatically. Then overtaken by self doubt, she added, “But maybe you don’t want something long term... I mean we’ve never really talked about any of that.”

“I never thought I’d have any of this - you, a life without lyrium, a _future_. I don’t know what that future holds, but I want to be with you in it,” Cullen said while moving his head to make eye contact with Nehn’s downcast face.

“Really?” she asked tentatively.

“Really,” he said sincerely then teased, “I can’t get over that I’ll be dating a grandma. Can I call you Granny?”

“Not if you want to live,” Nehn snipped.

“Nana?”

Nehn growled.

“Grandmama?”

Nehn’s eyes narrowed. “Not funny, Cullen.”

“No, it’s hilarious,” he laughed and then put his hands up as Nehn whacked at him playfully. “Ouch! You pack a wallop, Gramma.”

She settled into his lap and put her arms around his neck. “So I didn’t tell you the whole story about the puzzle box last night.”

“There’s a story?” 

“Mmm hmm,” she hummed while kissing his neck.

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Only if you get out of your armor, so you can hold me properly.”

“You’ll have to get out of my lap,” he reminded. 

She stood up and tapped her foot. “I’m waiting.”

He started to climb the ladder to his bedroom and then said, “Are you coming?”

“Is there a reason I should?” she flirted.

Cullen marched over to her. “Let me be blunt. I want to make love to you ... tonight. Against a wall, on my desk, in my bed... the location matters not,” he said forcefully. Then he stepped back and added gently, “However, I can wait. I _will_ wait if you ask that of me, but I hope you won’t. I love you, and I want to be with you. So will you come to my bed?” 

Nehn was so taken by his words and the lust in his eyes that she could only manage to nod her agreement.

“Is that a yes?” he questioned wanting to be absolutely sure of her response.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Gods yes.”

Cullen smirked, scooped her up, and scaled the ladder with her tossed over his shoulder. Nehn started giggling uncontrollably in response to his forwardness. When they reached the top of ladder, he placed her bottom on the floor of his bedroom and then climbed up the rest of the way himself. He stood, extended his hand to her, and pulled her to her feet and against his chest in a single motion. Her giggling stopped as she looked at him intently before starting to tug at his coat.

“So many blasted layers,” she complained when taking off the coat revealed a full set of armor. 

“Not as many as you wore that night to Wicked Grace,” he kidded as he yanked off his gloves and started unfastening his gauntlets and vambrances while striding over to his armor stand. He removed his boots and armor with practiced precision as Nehn stood watching and biting her lip. When he was down to his leather pants and linen undershirt, he returned to Nehn who had started to unfasten the buttons on the front of her dress.

“You had a story for me?” he questioned while kissing her neck and cupping her rear with his hands. Nehn stopped trying to work the buttons on her dress and traced the muscles on Cullen’s chest instead.

“Yes, about the box... My marriage was arranged, and Garel picked up on my reluctance to consummate it. He told me that he would wait until I returned the box to him opened before making love to me.” 

“No wonder you looked so alarmed when I admitted trying to solve it in Haven’s aftermath. I would have died if you told me then,” Cullen noted with a wry grin.

“I know, and then last night... seeing you open it and then get disappointed it was empty. I wanted to tell you the whole story then, but it had been such a trying day. And I didn’t want to rush things.”

“We don’t have to do this, Nehn,” Cullen said with sudden seriousness as he dropped his hands to his sides.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she replied earnestly.

“I mean it, though. I can wait,” Cullen reemphasized.

Nehn kissed him once and then finished unbuttoning her dress. She let it fall to the floor as she spoke, “What was it you said? I want you... tonight. Against the wall, on your desk, or in your bed. That’s how I feel. That’s what I want - _you_ in any and every way you’ll have me.”

With that reassurance, Cullen yanked off his shirt and leaned down to kiss Nehn. Aggravated with the marked difference in their heights, he effortlessly lifted Nehn who wrapped her legs around his waist. “Much better,” he said before kissing her deeply and tugging her breast band loose.

“Don’t fall through the hole in the floor,” Nehn cautioned as Cullen walked forward toward the bed.

Cullen pretended to fall, and Nehn cast a barrier about them before she realized that he had duped her. She hissed a few elven curse words, but then smiled and messed up his still perfectly coiffed hair.

He laughed mirthfully as he laid her down on the bed. “Closing the trap door is a good idea though. Patrols should be passing through any minute.”

Nehn’s face paled. “There’ll be soldiers beneath us as we... Cullen, you can see through the floor boards a bit. They could _hear_ us.”

Cullen closed the trap door and winked at Nehn. “Well, we can be quiet, or we can give them something to talk about back in the barracks.”

Nehn turned beet red and covered her face.

“Maker, you’re adorable. Patrols won’t be staying in my office. They only pass through. We’ll hear the doors open and close,” Cullen explained, and Nehn peeped through her fingers.

“I just don’t want word getting back to Falon and Asha. Not yet at least.”

“Am I your dirty little secret?” Cullen asked while he unlaced his pants and gave Nehn a positively wanton look.

“No, but they’re impressionable and...” she began to respond but then stared as Cullen removed his pants.

“They’re impressionable and ?” he repeated.

“Sorry, I got distracted,” she said but didn’t continue. 

“Nehn?” he asked trying to get her to make eye contact.

She finally snapped out of her near trance and sheepishly admitted, “Just checking things out.”

Cullen glanced down and then shook his head. “Honestly, Nehn, did you think it would be that different?”

“There’s a saying amongst the Dalish that humans although _taller_ are _smaller_. It appears that’s something else we’ve gotten wrong,” Nehn said with a sly grin.

“Of all the...” Cullen started and then decided he didn’t care. He crawled into bed and kissed Nehn while encouraging her to lay back. She complied and made a happy squeak when he took one of her breasts in his mouth. She looked up at the ceiling and thought her eyes were deceiving her.

“There’s a hole in your roof,” she commented, and Cullen snickered against her breast.

“Are you always this distractible?” 

“Just when I’m nervous. So yes, most of the time.”

Cullen resumed nuzzling her breast while letting his hands roam over her body. She sighed happily and then asked, “Why haven’t you had Gatsi fix it?”

Cullen sat up frustrated. “Seriously, you want to discuss my roof now?”

“What happens when it rains? Don’t you get cold?”

“It rarely rains. The tree blocks most of the water when it does. I sleep very warmly, so I appreciate the cool air. And I will talk to Gatsi about it if it bothers you that much. Now can we please...”

“By all means” Nehn responded. Then the door opened to Cullen’s office, and Leliana’s voice floated up toward them.

“My agents report that the Inquisitor hasn’t returned to her quarters. Do you perhaps know where she is, or do we need to organize a search?” the spymaster asked gleefully.

“Leliana, you know I’m here,” Nehn growled.

“Oh, I couldn’t be sure. You allow so few of my agents to be assigned to you,” Leliana giggled.

“This isn’t over, Lilly,” Nehn threatened using a nickname she knew Leliana despised.

“I would hate for it to be. Playing our own version of the Game is one of the most enjoyable aspects of being your spymaster. Did you remember a contraceptive potion? I brought one just in case. I’ll just leave it on the desk. Better grab it before the guards come by, though. I made sure to put your name on it.” Leliana said with mock helpfulness. 

Before leaving, Leliana chirped, “Have a good night - don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

When the door to the office closed, Nehn cursed a blue streak and declared that she would get even. Cullen, on the other hand, was hastily pulling on his pants. The patrol would be coming at any moment. He flipped open the trap door and slid down the ladder quickly just as the door opened up again. He sprinted across the room for the oversized and very, very well labeled bottle of contraceptive potion which Leliana had also adorned with a gigantic red bow and hid it behind his back.

The guard wasn’t expecting to find his Commander barely dressed and suspicious acting rather than hard at work. “Is everything alright, Sir?”

“Yes. Carry on,” Cullen commanded. As soon as the guard left, Cullen bolted up the ladder potion in hand and emphatically slammed the trap door shut.

He held up the potion bottle like a trophy while Nehn applauded. After stowing the bottle in his footlocker, Cullen stalked toward Nehn. Taking off his pants _and_ his smalls, he said, “I don’t care if Andraste herself shows up downstairs. She’ll just have to wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to address most people's concerns, and since I can't write smut to save my life I left most of it to the reader's imagination. Hope you enjoyed it. I guarantee Nehn and Cullen did - eventually. ; )


	78. Chapter 78

Cullen was tracing lazy circles on Nehn’s back in a blissful post-coital haze as she contentedly nuzzled his neck. “About the box... how long did you make him wait?”

Nehn sat up and eyed Cullen. “You have to understand I was a virgin. I’d never so much as kissed anyone before we married,” she began. “And he was _ancient_ in my eighteen-year-old eyes although thirty-four seems much younger to me now. I had been fixated on snapping up one of the clan’s hunters - someone muscular and good with a blade- not the clan craftsman.”

“So why agree to the marriage?” Cullen interrupted.

“He needed someone to help with Sylvia and Falon. They had already lost their mother, Selah. I wanted to make sure they grew up feeling wanted not resented. And although I wasn’t that physically attracted to Garel, I liked him - everyone in the clan did. He was quick-witted, easy going, and kind.”

Returning to his original question, Cullen pressed, “So how long?”

Nehn didn’t want Cullen to think of her as a heartless tease, so she continued her explanation rather than spit out the answer. “Initially, I was being immature and pouting over what I could have had with someone younger. Then I began to notice what a truly wonderful man he was - generous, loving, and patient, _very_ patient, and I started to fall for him.”

“So you gave him the opened box?” Cullen asked.

“No, I started comparing myself to Selah. She was remarkable, Cullen, and I’m not just saying that because she died young. She truly was a wonderful person - funny with an infectious laugh and smart - there wasn’t anything that she couldn’t learn. The two of them together ... it was just right, _perfect_ even. And then she got sick,” Nehn recounted and started crying a little.

“It was awful how the disease ravaged her. By the end, she was in so much pain, but her every thought was for Garel and the children. She made me promise I would take care of them, so I married him for the children’s sake and in her memory. I fell in love with him, but I wasn’t her. I was a hot tempered, distractible mage for gods sake. I couldn’t measure up to her. So I accepted that Garel would see me as a friend and helper, but I couldn’t fathom that he could ever _love_ me not after he’d had her.”

“Thankfully, my friend Ayla gave me a good tongue lashing and convinced me to at least hint at my interest in him. We’d been married six months at that point, and I’d never touched the box. Following Ayla’s advice, I started to play with it after the children had gone to sleep. He didn’t notice at first, but when he did ... he was happy. He kissed me for real the first time and told me that he loved me,” Nehn said with a sweet smile brought on by the memory.

“Six months... _after_ you were married.” Cullen commented. “He _was_ patient.”

Nehn winced. “We didn’t actually make love that night. I couldn’t solve the box, and I was too stubborn to ask for his help.”

Cullen groaned on Garel’s behalf. “Nehn...”

“I know. I know. It wasn’t just my stubborn streak. I’d quickly convinced myself that he didn’t really love _me_ that I was just a stand in for _her_. Anyway, after a few weeks of lust-ridden angst and anguish, I finally admitted that worry to him, and he explained that loving and missing her didn’t keep him from loving and wanting me.”

“So then you...” Cullen said.

“No, I still hadn’t solved the box. Fortunately, Falon figured it out on accident the next day. So all told, it was about seven months that I wasted. It didn’t seem significant then, but when Garel died I regretted that lost time. I don’t want us to ever fall in that same trap - especially with as risk filled as our lives are,” she concluded earnestly and then kissed Cullen.

He kissed her back. “I promise I won’t waste a moment,” he whispered and sighed, “I love you,” before taking her into a warm embrace.

“I love you, too,” she echoed as she soaked up his affection.

“About Asha and Falon...they know we’ve been seeing each other. Why are you uncomfortable with them knowing more?” 

“Asha is nine. I haven’t had _the talk_ with her yet, and I don’t want our relationship to be the starting point for that discussion. Honestly, I’m still recovering from explaining things to Falon last year. Sylvia, at least, was interested enough in animals that she pretty much had things pieced together herself when I spoke with her. Falon, on the other hand, would have been quite content to keep believing that baby elves were brought to the clan by halla. At least he was at the time, now I’m afraid he can’t wait to test things out for himself. I don’t want to seem hypocritical.”

“What do you mean hypocritical?”

“He is seeing a girl - a medic. She’s two years older than him, and I really don’t want him rushing to bed her. While I’ve made sure he knows how to prevent pregnancy, I’ve also given him the wait-until-you’re-bonded lecture.”

Cullen chuckled. “Ah - I see what you mean. It isn’t really the same thing, though - is it? He’s not quite fifteen. We’re considerably older and hopefully wiser.”

“We might realize that, but would he? Also you _are_ his commanding officer. Aren’t we technically fraternizing?” Nehn questioned.

“No, you aren’t enlisted in the Inquisition’s army, although I understand your point. Maker, children complicate things don’t they?”

“That’s an understatement, but I wouldn’t want to be without them. I love being a mother even if it exhausts me at times.”

“Why did you only have Asha then?” Cullen asked and then said, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer if that’s too personal.”

“No, I don’t mind. It primarily circles back to how the Dalish handle mages. Clan Lavellan had a Keeper and a First in Deshanna and me. Garel and I knew there was a good chance that Asha could also be a mage which would make her the clan’s Second.”

“And you didn’t want to risk having another child who would be forced to leave the clan if he or she were a mage,” Cullen said putting things together on his own.

“Exactly. Neither of us could bear the idea of losing a child that way, and we had three to keep up with as it was. Food in a Dalish clan is scarce at times. Adding another mouth to feed is no small consideration.” 

“So it wasn’t that you didn’t want other children. You were just worried about their place in the clan and being able to provide for them,” Cullen summarized.

Nehn sat up and wrinkled her forehead. “What’s with the interest in _other children_?”

Cullen started rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean... I know we’re very early in our relationship. I wouldn’t presume... it’s just...” he stammered.

“You wanted to know if I would consider having more children - right?”

Cullen exhaled. “Is there a way to answer that without seeming like I’m looking too far down the road?”

“Probably not,” Nehn snorted. “But the answer is under the right circumstances, I would _consider_ it. I know how hard raising children is. Going through it all again - especially since my three are relatively easy now - that isn’t a small decision. And if we had a child, it would be human. Asha’s birth was difficult, and I barely made enough milk to keep her satisfied. A _human_ baby would be bigger and hungrier. Mythal’s mercy...” Nehn grew increasingly anxious as she spoke.

Cullen kissed her and put his forehead to hers, “Don’t work yourself up. I’m a strategist. I like to think of all the possibilities. I’m absolutely content with a _maybe_ on that one.”

“Thank the gods because it’s just too much to even think about right now,” Nehn said as she collapsed against his chest with relief.

“So how are we going to handle things with Falon?” Cullen quizzed.

“Are you trying to make me break out in hives?” 

“No, I just like having a plan.”

“Can’t we opt to simply be discrete - at least for the time being?” Nehn proposed.

“You mean sneak around. Wouldn’t it be more straightforward to simply tell him?” Cullen asked.

“Fine. You go right ahead and do that,” Nehn challenged.

“I wasn’t thinking that _I_ would tell him. He’s your son.”

“He is, but you’re the one in such an all fire hurry to make him aware. Have at it,” Nehn pushed.

“On second thought, being discrete sounds good,” Cullen admitted sheepishly.

“That’s what I thought,” Nehn snipped. “Speaking of sneaking around, I should probably head back to my quarters.”

“Stay - just a little longer,” Cullen pleaded while running his hand up her thigh and nipping at her earlobe.

“Cullen...”

He didn’t speak in response but instead ghosted his lips down her neck while sliding a hand between her legs.

“I really should... Fenedhis, that feels good.”

Cullen smirked and continued moving down her body, pausing to nip and kiss her breasts while rubbing slow circles with his hand against her sex.

“It’s almost dawn, and if I show up wearing the same clothes as I wore last night...” she worried, and he increased his efforts while pressing himself against her thigh.

“Dread wolf take you, Cullen Rutherford,” she seethed in feigned anger before fully relenting to his advances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now almost all of the big talks are at least started - although they may come to regret trying to sneak around. 
> 
> Now Nehn will soon be leaving with the Broody Brigade.


	79. Chapter 79

The sun was just beginning to show above the horizon when Nehn stood in Cullen’s office trying to determine the best route back to her room. She finally decided on cutting through Solas’ study. It was the most direct route, and he would almost certainly still be asleep in his quarters. She gave Cullen a quick kiss goodbye and then took off.

As she hoped, Solas wasn’t present. Their time together hadn’t been perfect, but she still cared about Solas and didn’t want to hurt him. Dorian was already at his spot in the second floor library which was odd. The Tevinter was a night owl and rarely appeared outside his room before mid-morning voluntarily.

“I could have sworn I saw you wearing that same outfit last night. Trying to save on laundry?” Dorian needled.

Nehn stuck her tongue out and sassed, “At least I’m not interrupting patrol routes locking doors on the battlements in the middle of the day.”

Dorian guffawed then announced, “I _need_ details.”

“No you don’t, and I’ve got to get changed,” Nehn replied in a rush.

“Ah yes, good luck keeping up appearances,” Dorian snarked.

Nehn flipped him off and raced toward her room. Parsons was guarding her door and snickered when Nehn announced, “Be sure to give the Nightingale my thanks for the gift last night. I’m already mulling over ways to return her generosity.”

“Certainly, ma’am,” Parsons replied. “Might I make a suggestion?”

“I’m listening...” Nehn said warily.

“A cobbler was in the rookery yesterday showing his wares and taking her order. It’d be a shame if they showed up in the wrong size or color,” Parsons conspired while Nehn grinned evilly.

“Is that something you might be interested in helping me address? More importantly, why would you want to involve yourself?” Nehn quizzed.

“I’m a field agent not a watch dog. Consider this a protest for my current assignment. My skills are being wasted. We need eyes on the Venatori not your bedroom door,” Parsons answered.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Nehn remarked and then hurried up to her quarters. She had just finished fixing her hair and squeezing into her black leathers when Sylvia poked her head in the closet.

“So?” Sylvia asked expectantly.

“So.... what?” Nehn replied innocently.

“Play innocent all you want. That rosy glow on your face tells the true tale,” Sylvia accused playfully. “It’s good to see you so happy.”

Nehn hugged Sylvia tightly. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Sylvia asked.

“For not making me feel awkward or guilty,” Nehn explained.

“For being loved and in love? Papa would want this for you. It’s certainly what I want for you.”

Nehn started tearing up. “I”m going to miss you so much, sweet girl, but I’ll enjoy my time with you while I have it. Supper together tonight?”

“I wouldn’t miss it, Mamae,” Sylvia assented while giving Nehn a peck on the cheek. 

*******************  
Nehn arrived slightly late to the war room that morning which typically would have made the ever punctual Cullen irritated. Instead, he smirked when she came in apologizing, and let Josephine handle giving the irritated glares. Leliana was too busy reveling in her successful prank to care about Nehn’s lateness and was happily humming to herself while looking over her notes.

“Update me on the situation in Wycome,” Nehn ordered getting straight to business. “Sylvia and Sionn are wanting to return to the clan. Is it safe?”

“Did the attempt against them precipitate this decision?” Leliana asked. “I feel confident that we’ve found all the conspirators. Although we don’t yet have an official reply from the Arishok, the results of our prisoner interrogations have me satisfied that it was a non-sanctioned attack. It is unlikely to recur,” Leliana concluded.

“That is part of the reason. I’ll leave it to Sylvia to share more, but I doubt they can be persuaded to remain,” Nehn answered. “Now about Wycome...”

Cullen began the summary. “The situation in Wycome is still tenuous. As you know, we had one of the Duke’s advisor’s killed on my orders while you were ill. Documents on his person revealed that he was Venatori and had ordered the wells in the wealthier sections of the city poisoned with red lyrium. Leliana’s agent destroyed the red lyrium, but the nobles, who were most affected by the tainted water supply, began agitating against the elves in the city, who had escaped being poisoned and were instead being blamed.”

“On your orders, the same agent approached your clan to help quell the unrest. Deshanna used healing magic to relieve withdrawals for many of Wycome’s residents, but the nobles remained aggressive and attacked. The Duke was slain protecting your clan and the elves in the alienage. While the city’s common folk know the Dalish were there to help, the nobles that survived the skirmish have dispersed throughout the Free Marches spreading falsehoods naming your clan responsible for the poisoned wells. Currently, Clan Lavellan is within Wycome’s walls with Deshanna leading all of the elves in the city - Dalish or otherwise.”

Leliana spoke next, “We fear that Wycome’s nobles have gained enough support to move against their former city. Our agents could encourage your clan to leave, but the city elves would likely remain behind and be ripe for slaughter by the angered nobility.”

“Deshanna would never abandon the city elves if they look to her as a leader. We’ve had our differences, but she is loyal to those under her care. What are our options?” Nehn asked.

“I believe that my diplomats may be able to convince the Marchers to listen to reason,” Josephine advised. “We do not want to seem heavy handed or aggressive in our approach.”

“No, the only way they will listen is if we speak from a position of strength,” Cullen argued. “Fortify the city, then negotiate. Otherwise, the Marchers will kill the elves first and apologize later.”

“I agree with Cullen. The safest option is to send troops and hope that the Inquisition’s presence gives the would-be attackers pause. See that it is done.”

“I have a contingent of forces near Wycome already and can have them marching within hours thanks to the eluvians. With your leave, I’ll go now to make the arrangements, and use the agents we share with Briala to see that the message to fortify is delivered expediently.” Cullen offered, and Nehn nodded her consent.

After Cullen left the room, Leliana teased, “Well? Are you going to share how your night went? The Commander looked particularly _contented_ this morning if a little tired. Hmmm... so what was he like? He’s athletic which is always good, and templars are well renowned for their stamina and discipline - yes?”

Josephine, who hadn’t been privy to Nehn’s activities the night before, squealed, “Was it romantic? Did he give you flowers or serenade you? When is the wedding?”

“Wedding?” Nehn and Leliana questioned in unison.

“Surely you didn’t give yourself to him without the promise of marriage,” Josephine stated piously and then waited for Nehn’s mouth to drop open before adding giddily, “I finally got you. Leliana isn’t the only one who knows how to joke.”

Nehn exhaled and then laughed until she snorted. When Josie and Leliana continued to hound her, Nehn relented slightly on her tendency to be tight lipped about her love life. “It was wonderful. _He_ is wonderful,” Nehn said with a contented sigh and then held up her hands. “That’s all you’ll hear from me on the matter.”

“For now,” Leliana said with crossed arms. “I’ll get more out of you eventually.”

“You can try,” Nehn challenged with a wink. “Now is there any other **business** for us to discuss?” she quizzed regaining control of the meeting.

**************************  
After spending most of the day preparing to depart before the week’s end, Nehn had supper with her family. Later that evening and out of Asha’s earshot, she shared the morning’s briefing on Wycome with Sylvia and Sionn.

“I can’t believe the Keeper has the clan inside the walls of a human city,” Sionn said shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Maybe she’s had a change of heart,” Sylvia said putting a hand on Sionn’s arm. “I still think the Keeper was acting more out of jealousy than concern for the clan when she expelled Mamae.”

“How will the clan keep its identity amongst humans and flat ears?” Sionn questioned with a hint of anger in his voice. “Everything we believe will be diluted, and we’ll be nothing more than city elves within a generation.”

Sylvia glanced uncomfortably at Nehn who stayed silent. “If we can only hold on to what we believe by living in isolation, then our faith and community isn’t strong enough to survive anyway,” Sylvia shot back, and Nehn got the sense that this wasn’t the first time Sylvia and Sionn had had this argument.

“In any event, it isn’t safe for you to return just yet,” Nehn announced. “Cullen is sending troops to fortify Wycome and protect all the elves there. By the time I return next month, we should have a better sense of whether things have stabilized and what the clan plans to do.”

“We’ll wait, Mamae,” Sylvia responded forcefully while Sionn folded his arms and scowled.

Nehn bit her tongue rather than share her opinions with the young couple. She would speak to Sylvia privately later, but Nehn suspected that Sylvia was acquiescing to the move to keep Sionn satisfied. He had never been particularly religious, so Nehn wondered if he might be reacting strongly to Sylvia’s pregnancy and thoughts about raising a family without the support system the clan provided. They were young, and from what Sylvia hinted at, the pregnancy was unplanned. _Too many changes in too short of time,_ Nehn thought as she slipped away from the couple as their discussion grew heated.

Falon had been sulking since getting caught with Scout Harding and learning that he would be temporarily relieved from duty as punishment. Giving only one word answers to Nehn’s attempts at conversation, he made his displeasure clear. She made a last ditch effort at speaking with him in his room before bedtime, but he pretended to be absorbed reading a book. Nehn settled on whispering, “Ar lath ma, da’assan,” and closing his door.

Asha was still fearful after the attempt against her life, but a visit to the infirmary and seeing Lysette had helped her considerably. Nehn told her several stories and then sat with her until she fell asleep. Cole watched Nehn steadily and commented once Asha had slipped into the Fade, “She will be alright. The tangles of hurt are already loosening. Seeing Lysette helped.”

“I hope you’re right, Cole,” Nehn whispered before heading to her room. She could hear Sionn and Sylvia still arguing in their room as she walked past. _Sylaise, give them wisdom, and bless their union. Rekindle the love they have for each other and burn away doubt and regrets,_ she prayed as she climbed the stairs to her room and collapsed on the bed fully dressed.

Cullen slipped into her room late that night to find Nehn stretched across the bed, fast asleep and still fully clothed in her black leathers. Her hand was clasped tightly around the necklace with the pendants representing her children. He went to the closet and undressed then picked out night clothes for Nehn. He roused her and offered the clothes. She gave him a kiss and then recounted the evening’s events as she changed and then brushed her hair.

Nehn settled against his chest as he patted her reassuringly. “It will be alright, love. Sylvia and Sionn will find their feet. Falon is more angry with himself than anyone else. And Asha is resilient. She may never forget what happened, but it won’t define her.”

“I just want a vacation from worry and responsibility,” she admitted.

Cullen kissed the top of her head and continued to pat her until she fell back to sleep. _A vacation... that is a good idea,_ he thought and then mulled over where he could take her and whether it would even be possible for them to step away from their duties.


	80. Chapter 80

By the time Nehn stepped out of the eluvian that put them closest to the temple that Solas had helped locate, she was already doubting the wisdom of traveling with her all-elven retinue. The trip which would have taken weeks otherwise had lasted only a few hours, but Nehn’s head was pounding and her jaw hurt from clenching her teeth in response to Solas and Fenris’ incessant arguing. She had hoped Zevran might lighten the mood, but he was quiet and distant. _Fucking emotional elves_ she seethed as she sat down on a boulder and rubbed her temples.

“Let’s stop for today,” she announced while standing and walking toward the camp that the Inquisition agents who guarded the eluvian had established nearby. She asked where her tent was located and went inside without speaking another word to her companions. The Dread Wolf could take them - especially Solas who had been intentionally provoking Fenris. She hadn’t seen Solas act like such an ass since Bull first joined her team. Flopping down on her cot, she remembered their heated arguments about the Qun. Now he was doing the same thing to Fenris on the subject of magic. 

She downed a healing potion but her head wouldn’t stop throbbing, so she decided to write Cullen even though she’d seen him only hours before.

_Cullen,_

_It’s quite possible that I’m journeying with two of the most infantile men in all of Thedas. Solas and Fenris are at each other’s throats like the mages and templars once were outside the Chantry in Haven. Instead of you standing between them and calming the situation, I’m stuck in the middle and at a complete loss. So I’m hiding in my tent, nursing a headache, and writing you instead of acting like a leader._

_I’m sick of leading. I want to go back to following. It’s so much easier, and you get to complain freely about the choices that are made for you. I’m seriously considering telling Solas to take point on this mission although I doubt Fenris would listen to him. Damned broody elves - we’ve earned that stereotype._

_As sappy as it sounds, I’m already missing you terribly and am cuddled up in your coat even though it’s quite warm here._

_I love you,_  
_Nehn_

Nehn felt some better after writing the letter. She exited her tent and slid the note in the satchel the courier who ferried messages between the camp and Skyhold would take the next day. Moving away from her companions who had fallen into a resentful silence, Nehn laid back on the grass and stared at the sky.

She felt Solas’ approach before she heard his footfalls. “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“As long as you don’t gripe about Fenris,” Nehn snipped.

Solas chuckled and laid down beside her - close but not too close. “I apologize, da’len. I will try to hold my tongue more with him.”

Nehn looked over and gave him a grateful smile. “That would be most appreciated.”

“What do you think about when you look at the stars or stare into the flames?” he quizzed. Her forehead wrinkled at his question. Solas never asked for her thoughts. He was always too busy sharing his own or trying to guess hers.

“It varies. Just now I was worrying about Sylvia. It’s hard not to lose yourself when you’re focused on pleasing another person,” Nehn said thinking of how she had twisted herself to be who Deshanna and then later Solas wished her to be.

“The voice of experience?” he finally questioned after a long pause.

Nehn pressed her lips together and gave a small, rueful laugh. “In spades, I’m afraid. Sylvia is wiser, though. She may be agreeing to Sionn’s demands, but she’s still expressing her reservations about them.”

“What about you? You’re often contemplating - what do you consider?” Nehn asked.

“Primarily my regrets. I’ve no shortage of them,” Solas replied mournfully.

“Solas...” she started and then waited until he made eye contact to keep speaking. “I’ll be there for you without questions or condemnation if you ever need me.”

“I know you would, da’len, but there are some paths meant to be walked alone,” Solas responded and then stood. “We were simply born at the wrong times for our journey together to be a long one.”

Nehn was confused by his words but nodded anyway. What he said seemed true even if she didn’t understand it completely.

They left for the temple which was a half day’s ride away early the next morning. Solas kept his word about not provoking Fenris although the white-haired, lyrium tattooed warrior turned his ire toward Nehn.

“Tell me one thing that magic has touched that it hasn’t ruined, Inquisitor,” he challenged.

“My daughter. If you try to argue differently, I’ll have no doubt that you are completely blinded by your hatred of mages,” Nehn answered without hesitation.

“Give it time. It will twist her as well,” he sneered, and Nehn pulled her horse to a stop.

“Get off your horse,” she commanded as she slid off her own and handed the reins to Zevran.

“Going to challenge me to a fight, Inquisitor?” Fenris snarled.

“No, I want to speak with you, and I’d rather do that face to face than glancing over my shoulder while riding a horse,” Nehn answered without flinching.

“Fair enough,” Fenris said as he dismounted and stalked toward Nehn with his lyrium tattoos aglow.

“That is unsettling,” Zevran commented. “People shouldn’t glow - unless they’ve had great sex. Then a glow is to be expected.”

Fenris stood a head taller than Nehn but his rage made him seem to dwarf her in size.

“I have a theory,” she started.

“About what? How mages are oppressed? Save your words. Anders said enough for a lifetime,” Fenris growled.

“No, about your hatred of magic. About templars and their reaction to magic. Will you hear me out?”

“Why do you need a theory? Isn’t it enough to know that I was tortured by mages and saw firsthand in Kirkwall the destruction that follows them?” Fenris yelled with righteous anger.

“As did Cullen, yet he has moved past that.”

“Is this an offer to take me to your bed? I’m not interested.” Fenris snapped.

Nehn nearly slapped Fenris, but she controlled her rage. “No, it isn’t, and I would ask that you refrain from insulting me like that in the future.”

Fenris realized he had stepped over the line. “I apologize. That was a low blow.”

“Thank you,” Nehn said, “This blind hatred you have for magic... your experiences may have shaped it, but they aren’t what caused and sustain it. The lyrium does that. We now know it is alive, and I’m convinced that it feeds off the higher thoughts and emotions of non-mages that are exposed to it leaving them with largely primal urges like fear, anger, and desire instead. That’s why templars feel hollow to spirits and people like me that can sense auras. The lyrium has eaten away at them.”

“Templars take small daily doses of lyrium. It is etched into your very being. The fact that you have anything left but hatred is a testament to what an amazing person you are and how very special you must have been before this was done to you. I can’t promise that we can reverse the process nor would I presume that is what you would want, but I will offer you the full resources of the Inquisition if you decide that is something you want to pursue.”

“What makes you even think this could be undone?” Fenris asked while holding out his arms which glowed as he spoke.

“Cullen regained a part of himself when he stopped taking lyrium. That is what enabled him to move past what happened to him and what he saw. He still feels hollow in places, but he is slowly rebuilding what the lyrium ate away. I doubt he’ll ever be entirely whole, but who of us is?”

“It is something to consider,” Fenris said hesitantly. “Hawke once said that hatred binds me just as tightly as my master’s chains once did. If there was a way to break those chains...”

Nehn took a deep breath and patted Fenris on the arm before getting back on her horse. “Let’s go see what this temple holds. I want to put this particular trip behind me as quickly as possible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for two semi-angsty chapters in a row. Sunshine and butterflies will return at some point.


	81. Chapter 81

What she had seen at the Temple of Dirthamen left Nehn shaken. Although they had successfully defeated the spirits inhabiting the temple as well as agents of Corypheus that were trying to uncover the temple’s secrets, the entire experience had been disconcerting. Driven mad by the secrets they were forced to hold, Dirthamen’s priests had ritualistically sacrificed the leader of their order when the Creators stopped speaking to them. The despair and desperation in the temple were still palpable ages later.

Nehn shivered and tried to push the dark thoughts aside while she sat by the campfire.

“Let’s find a less depressing place to explore next time - yes? Perhaps somewhere drier with far fewer corpse pieces to collect,” Zevran quipped as he sat squatted beside Nehn.

“We’re scheduled to travel to Val Royeaux next which is a slight improvement,” Nehn noted sarcastically.

“Not a fan of Orleasians? I can’t blame you. Have you ever traveled to Antiva? Val Royeaux seems but an aging whore with caked makeup when compared to the sumptuous, nubile beauty of my Antiva City,” Zevran said wistfully.

“My clan never made it as far as Antiva. If it’s warm, I’m sure I’d like it,” Nehn answered.

“What are we doing in Val Royeaux? Besides gorging ourselves on tiny cakes and poking fun of the people wearing masks that is,” Zevran said with a wry grin.

“Some of Josephine’s personal couriers were killed. A count there claims to have information about who was responsible, but he refuses to share that knowledge unless I am present,” Nehn explained.

“And this doesn’t seem the least bit suspect to you? A _count_ investigating murders of low level servants and making demands of the most powerful woman in Thedas? No, I will accompany you and my fair countrywoman Josephine to this meeting,” Zevran announced. “After we have tiny cakes, of course.”

“Of course,” Nehn smiled.

Nehn was thankful Zevran tagged along to meet the Count as the masked man described details of a century old contract that demanded the deaths of any Montilyet or person in their employ seeking to reestablish trade in Orlais. Nehn thought it was odd a Count could obtain such information, but Zevran who had been leaning against a wall listening shook his head.

“Really?” he questioned as he pushed off the wall and moved closer to the Count. “Is this how far the House of Repose has fallen? To go digging through its vaults fishing for a contract that might somehow give them an in with the Inquisition?” Zevran sneered.

“At least we honor our contracts rather than garnering fame for failing to complete them,” the Count threw back disdainfully.

“What is it your guild really wants? You have obviously decided not to kill Lady Montilyet, or perhaps your group is as inept as rumors claim,” Zevran said with narrowed eyes.

“Says the assassin that not even the Crows want. But I can tell you have somehow gained the Inquisitor’s ear, what we want is to maintain our reputation as an honorable guild without having to kill her ambassador. If we should somehow impress the Inquisitor and earn her future business, all the better,” the Count explained with a twisted grin.

“Pathetic -even by Orlais’ low standards,” Zevran exclaimed. “Let the contract against Lady Montilyet find its way into the fire. Otherwise, I shall take it upon myself to do some _House_ cleaning. You’ve no doubt heard about the problems that keep plaguing the Crows since my departure. Does your little guild truly need any more enemies?”

“We cannot destroy one of our own contracts,” the Count said evenly. “However, we might choose to leave it laying on a desk at the front of our headquarters. If someone happened to take and discard it...”

“Orleasians - always making things too complicated. May this person come in daylight hours, or must he fiddle with a few locks in the dark?” Zevran asked with annoyance.

“Nighttime would be preferable. Sometimes we forget to lock the front door. It never hurts to check,” the Count advised.

Zevran let out an exasperated sigh. “Would tonight be too soon for this matter to be resolved?”

“Tonight is as good a night as any,” the Count replied.

“And I assume the guild would be particularly happy if some gold happened to be found on the desk in the morning rather than the contract?” Zevran said while examining his fingernails.

“It would certainly make the thought of accepting any future contracts against members of the Inquisition unpalatable,” the Count responded.

“Very well. A word of advice - these elaborate schemes to garner attention for your guild - very passe´. You would be laughed out of Antiva for such ridiculousness. Your work should speak for itself,” Zevran commented and then signaled Nehn and Josephine to leave. 

“That was bizarre,” Nehn said while exiting the count’s estate.

“Amateurs like them give assassins a bad reputation,” Zevran groused while Nehn stifled a laugh.

*****************************

With Josephine’s problem handled faster than expected, Nehn had a few days before her planned rendezvous with Cassandra near Caer Oswin. She opted to travel to Skyhold rather than camping out. After surprising her family and sharing supper with them, she went to her room and bathed. Slipping into her red leathers and letting her hair down, Nehn decided to see how quickly she could get Cullen to dismiss his nightly meeting with his officers.

She slid into his office behind the men and women gathered around his desk and leaned against the wall. Cullen was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t notice her at first. When he finally glanced her way, she bit her lower lip and shot him her best come hither look.

“We can conclude this discussion tomorrow. You may go,” he announced authoritatively. His officers were confused by the sudden dismissal until they saw Nehn. She waved casually as they filed out of the room, and then gave Cullen a wanton smile.

“They’ll never let me live this down, you know,” he said as he barred the doors to his office. “I thought you were wanting to be discrete.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that changing her mind is a woman’s prerogative?” Nehn purred as she leaned against Cullen’s desk accidentally knocking off an ink well.

He looked at the shattered remnants on the floor and arched an eyebrow toward Nehn who was preparing to apologize. Then he took his arm and cleared everything off the desk - sending papers flying and glass crashing. In the next instant, he was pressed against Nehn and kissing her hard while she scooted back on the desk and wrapped her legs around his waist.

When they broke free of the kiss, they started to tear off their clothes as if the material had somehow caught fire. Cullen, who was typically particular with his armor, was tossing it aside as if it were trash while Nehn started cursing the buttons on her leathers. She hadn’t managed to undo half the buttons when he was already naked from the waist up. Shaking his head at her progress, he started helping her with the buttons eventually declaring them unnecessary and ripping her jerkin open. Nehn was so desperate to feel his skin against hers that she didn’t care that he had ruined her outfit the first time she wore it.

“Maker, I’ve missed you,” he said as he freed her from her breast band. Nehn shimmied out of her pants and boots and then laid back pulling Cullen on top of her. He balanced most of his weight on his forearms, so he wouldn’t crush her against the desk and looked deeply in her eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. Nehn smiled as she traced his shoulders with her hands. “I love you, too, but I’m not in the mood for talking,” she said pointedly.

“Good, because I’m finding it increasingly difficult to think,” he said before unlacing his trousers. Their coupling left them both sweat covered and giddy. Cullen kissed her gently before pulling away. Then he surveyed his office. Papers, armor, clothes, and broken glass covered the floor. He looked at Nehn, shrugged at the mess, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her to his bed.

“What about the patrols?” Nehn asked.

“They’ll just have to find another way around,” he said as he offered her a drink from his canteen and then climbed into bed beside her.

She took a sip and then announced, “So much for discretion.”

“Worth every rumor and innuendo,” he commented with a smirk.

“Absolutely,” she agreed before cuddling up to go to sleep.

Early the next morning as Nehn examined her half-buttonless jerkin and leather pants which had found their way into a pool of ink she began to question the wisdom of the previous night’s tryst. Cullen, who was relieved that he hadn’t dented or scuffed his armor, noticed Nehn standing in her small clothes worrying over her ruined leathers.

“I’ve an idea,” he announced and raced up to his room while Nehn returned to picking up papers and trying to avoid stepping on glass in her bare feet. A short while later, Cullen was clearing his throat to get Nehn’s attention. Annoyed about her clothes and the idea of traipsing across Skyhold in their ink stained glory, she snapped, “What is it?”

“A present,” he said as he kept his hands hidden behind his back while grinning ear to ear.

Nehn seemed irritated but intrigued by Cullen’s declaration and turned to face him with her hands on her hips. He produced her lucky beige leathers and boots. “I thought it only fair I return these since I rendered your other pair unusable.”

Nehn squealed at the sight of her favorite clothes and started bouncing in excitement as Cullen handed them over to her. She hugged the soft leathers to her chest and then kissed Cullen. “Best present ever!” she rejoiced and rushed to put them on while Cullen stood amused at her reaction. When she had gotten dressed, she twirled around and then beamed at Cullen.

“You are incredibly easy to please,” he grinned.

“It took months to get these back, but I’ve got them AND your coat,” she exulted.

Cullen threw his head back and laughed. “You are the most competitive, relentless person I’ve ever known. I never stood a chance did I?”

Nehn wrapped her arms around his neck and said, “Not in the slightest,” before standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. 

*********************  
After Nehn had departed two days later, Cullen was walking with Falon and Asha to his office. “Any updates on Ser Lysette?” Cullen quizzed.

“She’s out of the infirmary and rebuilding her strength,” Falon answered. “For whatever reason, she’s missing Asha and wants to return to work as soon as possible,” he added while glaring at his sister who had relished making him play dolls and put on fashion shows during his punitive babysitting sessions.

“You’ll miss me when you’re back working in that stinky infirmary - even if Miss Kissyface is there,” Asha teased while her dimple indented deeply into her cheek.

Falon growled, and Cullen felt quite relieved that he’d never had to deal with his own sisters when he began dating. Asha was merciless, and Sylvia was constantly making suggestions for romantic gestures. Cullen noticed that Sylvia’s words were often made in Sionn’s presence and that her young husband wisely took note of those cues -often bringing her the flowers or candies she mentioned to her brother. 

When Asha was delivered to her tutors, Cullen settled behind his desk but Falon, who usually took the time away from Asha to practice archery, stood in front of his Commander instead. “Permission to speak freely, Sir?”

“Granted. What’s on your mind, Falon?”

“What are your intentions toward my mother?” Falon asked getting straight to the point.

Cullen paused for a moment. He had expected Falon to make a pitch for returning to his regular duties not bring up his relationship with Nehn. His hand started to fly to the back of his neck, but he instead fiddled with some papers on his desk. “I intend to stay with her for as long as she’ll have me,” Cullen replied cautiously.

Falon wasn’t satisfied with his answer and continued to stare at Cullen waiting for more of a response.,

Cullen took a deep breath and added, “I love your mother very much. I’ll do everything I can to keep her happy and safe.”

Falon nodded seemingly content with Cullen’s response and then pressed, “Do you plan to marry her?”

Cullen suddenly wished he could endure some of Asha’s good-natured teasing rather than Falon’s intense scrutiny. At times, Cullen let his mind wander to the thought of marriage and additional children, but there were so many obstacles to clear before that could happen. “I haven’t spoken to your mother about that. It’s probably something we should discuss first, but I think I would like that someday.”

“You should consider the example the two of you are setting for Asha,” Falon said boldly. “At the very least, you should make it clear to her that you love each other and intend to stay together long term.”

“That is a very good point. I apologize for not being more upfront with you from the beginning,” Cullen replied.

“I’m sure that was more Mamae’s doing. She has a hard time thinking of me as anything other than a little boy with a toy bow and arrows.”

“Speaking of that, your mother was concerned that you might take our relationship as clearance for you to become more... serious with your girlfriend,” Cullen started feeling both awkward yet obligated to bring the subject up to Falon.

“She would be,” Falon said with pronounced teenaged annoyance at his mother’s worries. “Let her know I can see the difference between her situation and my own,” he said while rolling his eyes.

Cullen chuckled. “I will although I think I’ll leave out the eye rolling.”

“Definitely leave out the eye rolling,” Falon agreed. “She’d have your hide.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, notifications about this chapter being posted didn't go out as far as I can tell, so I deleted and reposted it. Apologies to kmandergirl - her comment was destroyed in the process. Hopefully, the emails about the update will "take" this time. : )


	82. Chapter 82

Fenris, as usual, was seething although it wasn’t about mages for once. Nehn’s insight had somewhat quenched his rage, and he was seriously considering her offer to see if his tattoos could be safely removed. What had him aggravated at the moment was listening to Zevran practice reciting love poetry -godsawful _Antivan_ love poetry- in anticipation of seeing Cassandra.

“Stop. Now,” Fenris commanded as Zevran launched into his third round of _The Fishmonger’s Lament_. 

“I cannot. My delivery must be perfect. She deserves no less,” Zevran countered and then resumed his poem which had an inordinate number of references to clams in it.

“It isn’t even _good_ poetry,” Fenris moaned, and Nehn swirled around with an amused look on her face.

“Elgar’nan! You’re a literary snob just like Dorian. It must be a Tevinter thing,” Nehn commented.

“I’ll ignore the comparison to that over-accessorized, unctuous mage for now. Surely, you aren’t enjoying this display. The poem isn’t even subtle. The fishmonger eats too many _clams_ and swears them off once he tastes an oyster,” Fenris intoned with disgust at the poem’s abominable metaphor.

“It’s appropriate for someone with an appetite as large as Zevran’s,” Nehn replied with a smirk. “Besides it’s very sweet that he’s trying to please Cassandra.”

“He _could_ choose less atrocious verse, da’len,” Solas joined in the discussion.

“Ah, I’m sure that you regaled our beloved Inquisitor with many odes to her beauty when you were together. Perhaps you could share one,” Zevran suggested.

Nehn shot Solas a dirty look which Zevran picked up on immediately. “You didn’t whisper poems of love and desire to her? Surely you at least lavished her with gifts.”

Nehn’s eyes narrowed, and Solas cleared his throat. Fenris, for his part, was taken aback that Nehn and Solas had ever been a couple. They acted more like a master and his apprentice rather than people who had ever been lovers. _And I thought the pairing with Cullen was unlikely..._ , he mused.

“So no poems, no presents... it’s no wonder she dumped you,” Zevran concluded, and Nehn had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. Solas simply growled in the back of his throat and readjusted his backpack on his shoulders.

“In any event, I am certain Cassandra will appreciate your effort even if she doubts your taste in literature,” Nehn reassured Zevran.

When the Inquisitor and her party stepped out of the eluvian, Cassandra and Sera were waiting. Zevran’s face lit up when he saw Cassandra, and the fierce warrior blushed in response. They left quickly together under the pretense of scouting the best route to Caer Oswin.

“I doubt we’ll see them until tomorrow,” Nehn remarked and then held out her arms to get a hug from Sera while making sure to brace herself. Sera was enthusiastically affectionate - a fact that Nehn had learned the hard way when one of Sera’s tackle-hugs had once slammed her to the tavern floor. From then on, Nehn always took care to plant her feet as if she were about to receive a blow rather than an embrace when welcoming a hug from Sera. 

When Sera launched at her this time, Nehn stayed on her feet but got the wind knocked out of her nonetheless. Nehn felt the love and warmth Sera’s arms communicated was worth the breathlessness and slight discomfort, but she didn’t want to suffer any real damage. “Try not to break my ribs,” Nehn half-joked, half-pleaded. 

“Wouldn’t be a worry in you weren’t such a runt, Inky,” Sera teased but loosened her grip on Nehn slightly. “When we got here, there was a package waiting for you from your Cully Wully.”

“Did you open it?” Nehn quizzed knowing that Sera would have no compunction against invading her privacy.

“Cassandra wouldn’t let me,” Sera pouted. “But now that you’re here, I can.”

“ _I’ll_ open it, Sera, but I’ll let you see what it is,” Nehn corrected while thinking Sera was as bad as a toddler that demanded presents at someone else’s name day party.

A terse note was attached to the package. It said simply -

_Nehn,_

_Wear this when in the field. No exceptions._

_Cullen_

_P.S. I love you, but I mean it - I will brook no excuse._

Nehn’s eyebrow arched at the note. Cullen wasn’t typically so forceful with his requests. What did the package contain that he felt so strongly about her using, and why did he doubt her willingness to comply?

She unwrapped the brown paper and examined its contents. Her nose wrinkled with disgust as she held up the dragon skin and dawnstone contraption for Sera to see.

“Whattizit?” Sera quizzed.

“Hideous... and _pink_ ,” Nehn replied.

“I see that Dagna finally completed the shoulder harness,” Solas stated as he took it from Nehn’s hands and put it on her taking care to adjust the straps for a snug fit.

“You knew about this monstrosity?”

“I helped design it. Cullen and I both agreed that your shoulder has taken enough damage. The harness is imbued with elemental and physical resistances.”

“It’s ghastly. Couldn’t you have made something more subtle? Maybe a nice ring or a cape in an attractive Dales loden wool?” Nehn whined.

“No capes!” Solas said vehemently. “The harness is practical and it won’t snag on things, and a ring isn’t large enough to bear the number of enchantments this piece holds.”

“You’re going to make sure I wear it - aren’t you?” Nehn nearly cried as she asked the question. _Maybe I shouldn’t have been happy to see Solas and Cullen getting along after all. Between the two of them watching me, I’ll never get away with anything risky._

“Absolutely. Vanity has no place on the battlefield,” Solas lectured while Nehn fought the urge to roll her eyes.

When they finally brought down Lord Seeker Lucius at Caer Oswin, Nehn was thankful for the harness (although she still hated that it was pink) as it took a hard blow from his blade during the fight. Before his death, Lucius had revealed he had willingly lured other Seekers to their deaths and was collaborating with Corypheus. His assertion was that Seekers were little better than abominations and that he wanted to create a new, pure order. 

Lucius had given Cassandra a book passed down from one Lord Seeker to the next claiming she would agree with him once she’d read it. She had instead launched at him enraged at what he had done to the people under him and seemed to take uncharacteristic pleasure when delivering the killing blow to her former Commander. Now back at camp, Cassandra was sitting with the book on her lap trying to decide if she wanted to read it.

“What happened to my apprentice Daniel and the other Seekers demanded justice. I gave them that at least,” Cassandra said to Nehn while fighting back tears.

“Give yourself time to mourn, Cassandra. The secrets that book holds will keep,” Nehn advised.

Cassandra sighed. “If you don’t need me for the dragon fight, I would like to return to Skyhold. I need time to think and pray.”

“Of course. I was going to recommend as much to you,” Nehn replied quietly. “And I’ll have Zevran accompany you.” The Antivan rogue, who was eavesdropping on their conversation, smiled approvingly at Nehn’s suggestion.

“You need him when you go through the eluvians,” Cassandra protested. 

“No, I need a _rogue_. You need _him_ ,” Nehn emphasized. “Sera can come with us - kicking and screaming if necessary. It won’t hurt her to put someone else before herself for a change.”

“Thank you,” Cassandra exhaled and wearily made her way to her tent with Zevran padding along beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today - but Zevandra and an Incredibles reference!


	83. Chapter 83

Nehn’s sides were aching so badly that she had to sit down. Solas looked over at her with a mixture of concern and disgust while Fenris seethed and stared at the ceiling. “I’m sorry. I’ll pull myself together in a minute,” Nehn gasped and then resumed laughing so hard she was concerned that she might wet herself. Fanning her face and snorting, Nehn tried to regain her composure. They had been moving through the eluvian for more than a half hour, but Sera had not stopped cursing the entire time. The elven archer’s combination of swears had grown so inventive that Nehn had started snickering, then giggling, and finally roaring until she was incapacitated. 

“You would think she’d never heard a curse word before,” Fenris commented dully to Solas.

“She knows plenty of them herself - just in elven,” Solas remarked with a small twinkle in his eye.

Nehn laughed harder and felt a tiny trickle in her smalls. Then she joined Sera in her chorus of cursing - in elven, of course.

“I’m quite certain Fen’Harel never did _that_ ,” Solas said emphatically clearly offended by the depravities suggested by Nehn’s swearing. Nehn looked at him, snorted, and curled in on herself laughing even harder.

“Only you would defend the Dread Wolf’s honor,” she finally retorted once she’d calmed herself enough to speak. 

“Someone had to...” Solas countered with marked amusement on his face then offered her his hand and helped Nehn to her feet. 

Sera had ceased her litany of curses long enough to whine, “Are we there yet?” When Nehn told her it would be a little while longer, Sera resumed her swearing with renewed gusto. Fenris smacked his forehead and spat out a few of his own curses in Tevene.

“Multi-lingual blasphemy - delightful,” Solas quipped drily and pressed ahead as Nehn and the others trailed behind him. Nehn and Fenris, for their part, marshaled their self-control and began speaking like adults. Sera sulked behind them punctuating her every step with an expletive.

When they stepped out of the eluvian, Sera fell to her knees and kissed the ground. “Never going through another one of those demon tunnels again!” she proclaimed with a look that dared anyone to try and make her.

“We were barely there for an hour, Sera, and nothing happened,” Nehn argued.

“Doesn’t mean that it couldn’t have. We should leave ancient elfy shite alone,” Sera asserted vigorously.

Nehn shook her head and wandered away to change into a set of smalls that were dribble free. _No one tells you about this particular joy of motherhood._

__Dorian, Varric, and Bull were elated to see Nehn. “Sassy, it feels like its been ages,” Varric announced warmly as he held his arms out for a hug._ _

__“I’ve missed you, too, Varric,” Nehn said as she squeezed the dwarf tight and then ruffled his chest hair playfully._ _

__“Uh uh - not the chest hair,” Varric corrected, and Nehn pouted in response._ _

__“No hugs for your best friend?” Dorian quizzed. Nehn cuddled up to him and added a kiss to his cheek. “Much better. I was thinking you’d stopped caring,” he teased._ _

__“Saved the best for last - didn’t you?” Bull asked when Nehn came around to embrace him._ _

__“Absolutely. Bull hugs are one of the wonders of Thedas,” Nehn replied while snuggling in his arms._ _

__When she let go, Bull looked askance at her shoulder harness. “Trying to rip off my style, Boss?”_ _

__“This is what happens when Cullen and Solas put their heads together,” Nehn answered while giving a nauseated glare to the pink contraption. “Unfortunately, it has already proven its utility. I’ll never get to stop wearing it now.”_ _

__“It’s a good idea, and I like the dawnstone. Wonder if Dagna could make a matching one for me?” Bull mused._ _

__“You _like_ this pink horror? Bull, have you taken any recent blows to the head?” Nehn asked with genuine concern._ _

__“I like pink. What? You don’t?” Bull joked._ _

__“Speaking of monstrosities,” Varric interrupted. “One of the couriers mentioned that your beige leathers had resurfaced. Please tell me he was mistaken.”_ _

__Nehn looked sheepish. “I did get them back,” she admitted._ _

__“Boss, we got you two new outfits. Why are you wearing those rags again?”_ _

__“I can’t wear the black ones all the time, and the red ones... well, they fell in the line of duty,” she said while saluting._ _

__“There’s a story there,” Varric declared. “And you’re sharing it.”_ _

__“I can’t,” Nehn said as her ears turned pink. “Just know that they served valiantly.”_ _

__“I’m under the impression that the demise of the red leathers, the reappearance of the beige leathers, and the rumor that Cullen barred the doors to his office for an entire night are somehow linked,” Dorian deduced and then braced for Nehn to swat at him._ _

__Nehn instead turned bright red and stared at the ground._ _

__“No, Boss, none of that,” Bull chided. “You made Cullen break protocols,” he said with slight awe in his voice and then extended his hand toward her, “Up top!”_ _

__Nehn giggled and bumped his fist. “I’m still not sharing details.”_ _

__“None needed, Sassy. We can piece it together on our own,” Varric grinned._ _

__**********************  
After killing Crestwood’s dragon and helping Leliana recover a gift from Justinia in Valence, Nehn was itching to get back to Skyhold. Leliana insisted that they go shopping together first. “You owe me, Inquisitor, for an entire season’s worth of shoes,” the spymaster said with crossed arms and a wicked smile._ _

__“What? I was just evening the score after your contraceptive potion prank,” Nehn countered._ _

__“No, when you involved my shoes, you escalated matters. If you were anyone else, they’d be futilely searching for your remains. I’ve come to like you, though,” Leliana said with an eerie tinge to her voice._ _

__Nehn’s face paled as she wondered about Parsons‘ fate. Leliana seemed to read her mind and giggled. “Don’t worry. I only reassigned Parsons. She was right. Her skills were being wasted, and you had her so wrapped around your finger that I wasn’t going to get anything useful anyway,” Leliana said with a sigh. “I’m afraid you’re making me soft.”_ _

__“I like this Leliana,” Nehn said earnestly. “She can do great things for Thedas, _and_ keep her soul.”_ _

__“Thank you for reminding me of that, Inquisitor,” Leliana replied. “But don’t think that will get you out of replacing my shoes,” she added emphatically.__

After a day’s worth of shopping with Leliana, Nehn’s feet were throbbing and her purse was nearly empty as they sat together at a cafe enjoying dinner. “I can’t wait to get back to Skyhold,” Nehn confided.

__“You’ve been away a little over a week, and you speak as if you’ve been gone months. You’re quite smitten, so will you share details with me now?” Leliana asked conspiratorially._ _

__Nehn turned slightly pink and then said, “Just one. He’s the first man to ever wear me out,” and then covered her face while giggling like a schoolgirl. Leliana joined in with her beautiful cascading laugh and smiled warmly at Nehn._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one today. Meatier stuff soon as Nehn will return to Skyhold to find a Cullen fixated on Samson.


	84. Chapter 84

As soon as Nehn made it back to Skyhold, she raced to Cullen’s office in hopes of seeing Asha, Falon, and him all at once. When she opened the door, only Cullen was present, and he was so absorbed in his work that he simply barked, “Report,” without looking up.

“I’ve returned to Skyhold to find my children missing and my lover so entranced by his papers that he won’t even greet me,” Nehn teased.

Cullen dropped what he was reading and looked abashedly at Nehn, “I apologize. I’ve been stretched thin the past few weeks with Josephine in Val Royeaux and Leliana away on personal business.”

“Leliana suffered traveling through the eluvian to return here faster. I think she couldn’t stand another minute away from her ravens and their messages.”

“Thank the Maker! Now I can send the nobles her direction. Honestly, I don’t know how Josephine does it. I was nearly ready to suggest a gibbet to the next person that griped to me about their room or the food here,” Cullen said running a hand through his hair.

“And my children that you were to be watching?” Nehn quizzed accusingly.

“Falon is back to his regular duties now that Ser Lysette has recovered enough to supervise Asha. One of the Chargers is acting as Asha’s personal guard since Lysette is not yet back to full fighting form,” Cullen replied while fighting to pull his attention away from the maps and missives on his desk.

“One of Bull’s Chargers is guarding Asha? Which one?” Nehn worried what Asha might pick up around one of Bull’s rough-around-the-edges crew.

“Grim. I figured Asha would learn the least number of curse words from him,” Cullen said with a wink.

“Good choice considering he barely speaks,” Nehn quipped. “Why is Josie still in Val Royeaux? She should have returned well over a week ago.”

“The Chantry is still wanting Leliana and Cassandra to appear in person before the clerics that are voting for the next Divine,” Cullen explained. “Josephine is declining on their behalf.”

“And that takes weeks to do?”

“You’ve obviously never dealt with the Chantry’s bureaucracy,” Cullen said wearily. “The latest raven from Josephine said that she would return soon but to expect some bad dreams upon her return. Do you know what that means?” 

“Well, shit.” Nehn hissed. “I told her my nightmare scenario would be having to help choose the leader of a religion to which I don’t ascribe. I hope that she’s talking about some other kind of bad dream.”

“I highly doubt it,” Cullen chuckled. “But here’s to hoping.”

“You’re Andrastian. You can pick for me,” Nehn offered.

“No, it’s your opinion they want. Not mine,” Cullen said firmly.

“Fenedhis! Couldn’t you at least give me a hint?”

“The truth is I don’t know. Your judgment would be as sound as my own.”

“How can that be? You can recite the Chant chapter and verse. You’ve studied the Chantry’s history and its leaders. More importantly, you actually believe in the Maker,” Nehn argued.

“Yes, but as much as you hate to hear it, I believe He sent you.”

Nehn growled. “Not this Herald nonsense again. Didn’t what I saw in the Fade at Adamant clear that up?”

“That only showed that Andraste wasn’t involved - not the Maker,” Cullen countered. He knew he was dangerously close to causing a Nehn meltdown, but he wasn’t going to back away from telling her the truth as he saw it.

“Fine. If the Maker is in control, then I’ll just flip a coin,” she said defiantly. 

“If that’s what you think is best,” Cullen replied calmly which resulted in Nehn fuming to the point the candles in his office flared. He glanced at them and then to Nehn who stomped her feet but also reined in her emotions enough that the candles returned to normal.

“I’ll worry about it later,” she finally announced and plopped into a chair.

“That works, too,” Cullen said while trying not to smirk. 

“So do you want to get something to eat?” Nehn asked.

“I’d love to spend time with you, but I really need to keep at this,” Cullen declined.

“What are you working on?”

“Tracking Samson’s assistant Maddox. He’s the tranquil that we believe created Samson’s armor. I think we’ve located him, but I want to double check everything before I ask you to follow up,” Cullen explained.

“Cullen, does it matter? Compared to Corypheus and his dragon, Samson is a gnat.”

“It matters to me, and I think you underestimate how difficult he would be to kill if we don’t find some way to nullify his armor,” Cullen disagreed.

Nehn sighed, “I’m not changing your mind on this one - am I?”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Alright then. Happy hunting. Just think about coming to bed at a decent hour. I’ll make it worth your while,” Nehn said as she sashayed out of his office with a pronounced sway to her hips.

Nehn woke the next morning alone with bruised feelings. Cullen hadn’t come to her bed at a decent hour or otherwise. _He’s just being thorough. Don’t take it personally,_ she advised herself but it didn’t help. After dressing and sullenly picking at her breakfast, she made her way to the war room still pouting.

Cullen arrived shortly after animatedly announcing that he felt certain they had found Maddox and Samson. When she didn’t return his excitement, Cullen was bewildered. He’d spent months trying to track Samson. Nehn could at least thank him for his efforts.

Leliana entered the room to find the air thick with tension. Nehn appeared on the verge of tears, and Cullen was clenching his jaw and scowling. Neither of them were looking at each other. _Lover’s spat,_ she deduced and hoped that the tension would wane once the meeting got underway.

It didn’t. Nehn barely spoke, and Cullen’s reports were delivered in a clipped voice. _Is he trying to provoke her?”_ Leliana wondered. Even the spymaster worked to avoid inciting Nehn’s wrath. The diminutive elf’s words could cut to the bone when she was angered - likely because they were always truthful in addition to venomous. 

Instead of causing Nehn to spiral into a temper-fueled diatribe, Cullen’s terseness made her more withdrawn. Her eyes were teary when she called the meeting to a close and Cullen stormed out of the war room without speaking. Leliana debated whether to say something to Nehn, but she opted to simply pat the Inquisitor gently on the arm before leaving the room silently.

Cullen was passing through Solas’ study on the way to his office when it dawned on him that he was being an ass. A large portion of him wanted to keep marching forward, and make Nehn come to him. She _was_ being ungrateful. At the same time, he’d knew he was the cause of her weepiness, and that made him disgusted with himself. Taking a deep breath and growling, he turned around to go make things right.

“Infuriating isn’t she?” Solas commented without looking away from his painting.

“Maddening,” Cullen agreed as he swung open the door to the great hall with enough force that it loosened some plaster when it hit the wall.

Nehn was still in the war room with her back to the door when Cullen returned. Without even seeing her face, he knew that she was crying.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and Nehn took a shuddering breath in response. He walked over and put his arms around her which caused her shoulders to shake as she cried harder.

“Me, too,” she answered before turning and burying her face in his chest.

“I was happy to see you last night, and I had every intention of joining you. I got carried away with work and lost track of time,” he explained while she nodded her head and snubbed.

“I wanted you to notice me not chase ghosts,” Nehn whimpered. “I don’t understand this obsession with Samson.”

“He’s twisted the Templar Order and made literal monsters out of people under his command,” Cullen retorted angrily.

“That isn’t why you’re so fixated on finding him. It’s personal with you. What I don’t understand is why.”

“We were colleagues, roommates... If things had gone differently... If I had made different choices...” Cullen began and grabbed at his neck.

“I don’t believe for a minute that you would have played along with someone who wanted to be a god,” Nehn said firmly.

“Perhaps not at first, but if I’d gotten hooked on red lyrium? I saw the madness it nurtured in Meredith. Not all of the Red Templars were villains from the outset. Even _Samson_ wasn’t always unsavory. Did I ever tell you why he was cast out of the Order?” Cullen asked while stepping away from Nehn and beginning to pace.

“No, why?”

“He was ferrying love letters between a mage and his girlfriend.”

“That was enough to get him kicked out?” Nehn asked in astonishment.

“Yes. Meredith was iron-willed when it came to the enforcement of rules. I tried to dissuade her. Perhaps if I’d been more eloquent...” Cullen second guessed.

“From what you’ve said, she was completely unreasonable. I doubt you could have made a difference,” Nehn consoled. Cullen shook his head vigorously.

“Samson contacted me when the withdrawals hit him. I refused to share my lyrium supplies with him. I said it was because I didn’t want to risk Meredith’s ire which was partially true. The larger reason was that I was so addicted that I couldn’t bear the thought of scaling back on my dosage to help someone,” Cullen said with disgust.

“The story gets worse, and you might as well know it all. Remember the mage that was using Samson to get letters to his girlfriend? That was Maddox. Meredith made him tranquil for ‘corrupting the moral authority of a templar’ which was the charge she trumped up for enlisting Samson’s help. I didn’t wield the brand, but I did little to stop it either,” Cullen admitted while staring at the floor unable to meet Nehn’s eyes.

Nehn touched Cullen’s arm. “But you’re here now having gotten past the worst of your withdrawals and working alongside mages like you were born to it. You can’t undo the past, Cullen.”

“But I have to do _something_ in the present,” Cullen countered. 

Nehn noticed how anguished Cullen looked when he responded, and her heart broke. “Alright then, where is this Maddox? I’ll make finding him my next priority.”

Cullen stared in astonishment. Once again, he had let her see what a twisted wreck of a man he was, and she hadn’t run away. Instead, she was offering to chase down his demons for him. 

“I can’t ... I won’t let you do this without me. I know Samson. I want to be with you in case he is there,” Cullen replied while running his thumb along Nehn’s cheek.

“Cullen, I can manage well with my team.”

“Please, I would rest better if I were with you,” Cullen begged.

“That would mean I’d have to travel over land. If I went through the eluvians, I could be finished before we would have gotten out of the Frostbacks on horse.”

“It would also mean that you were walking into a Red Templar stronghold with only three people to back you up. We nearly lost you at Suledin Keep, and you had a much larger retinue. Going with a compliment of soldiers and healers is the safest option. I can’t risk losing you,” Cullen said sincerely.

Nehn sighed. “Make your plans. We’ll leave when Cassandra and the others make it back to Skyhold.”


	85. Chapter 85

Cullen’s relief upon hearing Nehn would take him along to Samson’s stronghold reminded him of another matter. Putting his arms about Nehn’s waist, he said, “Falon came to speak with me when you were away.”

“About getting back to his duties?” 

“No, he asked what my intentions were with you,” Cullen grinned.

Nehn snorted. “He’s his father’s son. When Sionn started showing more than a passing interest in our Sylvia, Garel took him aside to ask the same thing. I’ve never seen Sionn look more terrified. How did you hold up?”

“I was surprised with Falon’s intensity, but I think I passed muster.”

“So what _are_ your intentions, Commander?” Nehn flirted while putting her arms around Cullen’s neck and tilting her head to the side.

“I told him that I loved you and wanted to keep you safe and happy,” Cullen answered while punctuating his words with a kiss. “Then he asked if we were going to get married.”

“Mythal’s mercy! I raised a nosy child,” Nehn exclaimed. 

“I told him that I should probably discuss that with you first,” Cullen volunteered. “He was concerned for the example we’re setting for Asha.”

Nehn let her head thunk against Cullen’s breastplate. “My own words come back to haunt me. I’m always telling him to watch his behavior for her sake.”

“He raised a good point that she should at least know that we love and are committed to each other. When I told Asha that very thing later, she looked at me like I was insane and responded, _Well, duh_ ,” Cullen recounted. “I think I know who to blame for her sassiness,” Cullen teased what gently swatting Nehn’s rear.

“Guilty as charged, but you’d be bored with a milquetoast. You like a challenge,” Nehn noted.

“No, I _love_ a challenge,” Cullen responded earnestly. “Do you ever consider it? he asked cautiously.

“Consider what?” Nehn asked while wrinkling her brow. She wasn’t following his question.

“Marriage. Us,” Cullen replied not wanting to say too much.

Nehn eyed him suspiciously. “Is there a way to answer that question without seeming like I’m looking too far down the road?” she asked quoting him from an earlier discussion.

“We’re both planners. I won’t hold it against you,” he encouraged.

“I have thought about marriage, but I don’t think it’s possible,” Nehn grudgingly admitted.

“What do you mean?” Cullen queried.

“Who would marry us? No Keeper would join an elf and a human. Your Chantry would want me to convert, and it prohibits mages from marrying,” Nehn explained matter-of-factly. 

“Wow, you really have thought about it,” Cullen teased.

Nehn growled. “Don’t make fun of me for thinking things through, Mr.-We’ve-Been-Dating-A-Few-Months-But-Would-You-Consider-Having-My-Children.”

Cullen snickered. “Fair enough. But saying we _could_ marry, is that something you would want?”

“Is that a proposal? Because it needs some work,” Nehn quipped.

“It’s a clarification - strictly for research purposes, of course.” Cullen winked.

“Well, if it’s in the name of science... I suppose I’ll have to answer,” Nehn smiled. “If it were possible _and_ I were approached about it properly, then yes.”

“Good to know,” Cullen grinned, “For science that is.”

***********************

Cullen had hoped that Nehn would travel with him over land to the Temple of Dumat where Samson had his headquarters, but she opted to use the time to clear out remaining rifts in the Emerald Graves and Exalted Plains with her elven comrades. His soldiers had just finished setting up camp when she stepped out of the eluvian looking pristine. Cullen, who was covered in grime and sweat from his weeks on the road, looked at Nehn with a touch of jealousy.

“You look as if you’ve just had a bath,” he commented while wondering how badly he smelled.

“I did. I stopped off at Skyhold, had a meal with my family, cleaned up, and then headed here,” she said brightly.

“You may not want to get too near me. I’m a bit rank,” Cullen warned.

“I don’t care,” Nehn said and rushed over to kiss him. She gave him a quick smooch and then said, “Whew, you weren’t kidding. Did you roll in a pig sty?”

“We’ve been trying to conserve water. The area is in the midst of a drought. Most of the streams are dry,” Cullen explained.

“Well, I can fix you up with a nice shower,” she offered while waving her hand and conjuring water.

Cullen sighed. _It must be nice to be able to simply imagine water and have it before you._ “That would be wonderful, but your mana would be better spent refilling our troops’ water reserves.”

“Ever pragmatic. I’ll get Solas, and we’ll see it done. Then I’m giving you a shower. I won’t consider it wasted mana if I get to watch,” she said with a coquettish lilt.

“Maker, I’ve missed you,” Cullen chuckled.

“I’ve missed you, too. I’ll show you just how much after you no longer smell like a halla pen.”

After Nehn made good on her promise to restock water supplies, she tracked Cullen down. “Bath time, Commander,” she said in her most authoritative voice just in case he had the idea to work more instead.

“Gladly,” he answered while sticking his papers under a rock on his makeshift desk.

“Dorian was with you. Did you think to ask him to restock the water?” Nehn quizzed as they walked away from camp for privacy.

“For all my years spent around mages, I often forget their abilities. It didn’t occur to me - or him for that matter,” Cullen said a bit defensively.

“I’m not picking on you, Cullen. Just making conversation,” Nehn said. “So what temperature would you like your water? Chilly? Lukewarm? Near Scalding?”

“You have that much control that you can not only conjure but heat the water?” Cullen asked astonished.

“Years spent making baths for children have made me quite adept. So what’s your pleasure?”

“Almost chilly - not quite lukewarm,” he responded.

“Ugh- am I the only person that likes a steaming hot shower?” 

“No, I’ve just been sweaty and miserable for the past few weeks and cool sounds refreshing.”

“Cullen, you didn’t have to come,” Nehn pointed out.

“Yes, I did. I don’t want to start that argument again,” Cullen said firmly.

“You’re right. I apologize,” Nehn replied while waiting for Cullen to disrobe. She smiled approvingly as she watched. “You’re built like a god,” she purred. 

“Well, I feel like a druffalo that’s been rolling in the mud,” Cullen joked.

“That I can fix,” Nehn said while conjuring a shower for him and resting her chin in her hand while keeping her eyes on Cullen.

“Enjoying the show?” he smirked.

“Very much. We should do this more often,” Nehn answered with a crooked grin.

“I wonder if you could manage to maintain the spell if you joined me...” he hinted.

“I doubt it. You’re too distracting, but don’t bother getting dressed when you’re done.”

When they returned to camp later looking sated, Dorian needled, “We were about to send out the search party.”

“They would have gotten quite the show I bet,” Bull joked, and Nehn flipped him off.

“Promises, promises ... like you’ve said, Boss, it’s never happening,” Bull teased. “But there is something I wanted to talk with you about,” he added seriously.

“Sure, Bull, what is it?” Nehn said while settling down near Bull and motioning for Cullen to join them.

“I don’t mean to piss you off, but this needs said,” Bull said earnestly. “This elf team thing... it sucks. You’re barely with the rest of us anymore. You just pop in, do your thing, and disappear. We miss hanging out with you.”

Cullen found himself nodding and then was on the receiving end of a very intense glare from Nehn.

“Bull, I’m being efficient. This is a war not a party,” Nehn countered.

“I get that, Boss, but you also have to think of morale. And for most of your team, it’s low. Look the rest of them aren’t going to say anything to you directly, but just pay attention while you’re with us,” Bull advised.

“Alright, Bull, I’ll consider it. Maybe I can at least strike a better balance,” Nehn answered.

“That’s all I’m asking for. Thanks, Boss.”

Nehn patted Cullen’s leg and signaled him to follow her. “You were agreeing with Bull. One of the main reasons I’ve been using the eluvians so much is that it gives me a chance to make it back to Skyhold more often to see you and my family. What gives?”

“I had hoped that you’d travel with me here,” Cullen admitted. 

“You never said that. In fact, you praised how much I’d be accomplishing while you were en route,” Nehn said with confusion.

“That’s the difference between me as a Commander and me as a person. I think the same dichotomy exists for your team. They understand what you’re trying to do with the eluvians, but it is still building resentment.”

“Well, shit....” Nehn exhaled. “I guess I’ll be taking the long way home.”


	86. Chapter 86

Nehn was exhausted and nauseated. Exposure to the red lyrium that permeated the Temple of Dumat had her nearly incapacitated, but Cullen wouldn’t leave. He had scoured the temple looking for anything that might lead to Samson’s whereabouts and had found some tools for Dagna to examine, but he wanted to find more information. Nehn finally had enough. “I’m leaving. Don’t let this place burn down around you,” she hissed.

If Cullen heard her, he didn’t respond. He was enraged that Samson had slipped away again. Nehn’s comment earlier that his insistence on bringing a full retinue likely tipped Samson off was eating at him as well. Her message was clear - she would have captured Samson if he’d let her use the eluvians and her elven strike team.

When Nehn made it out into the open air, she began retching. Solas noticed immediately and rushed over to her. The temple’s atmosphere had given him a bad headache, but Nehn’s reaction was much worse. He was terrified that she might seize, and immediately began pouring healing spells into her.

She stopped vomiting but was too weak to stand, so he picked her up and yelled for assistance. Several of Cullen’s soldiers raced over and helped him carry her to where the medics and healers were stationed a ways from the temple.

“We need to examine her carefully for any wounds,” he declared. “She is particularly sensitive to the effects of red lyrium.”

“Solas, they didn’t get to me. It’s just the air in the temple,” Nehn protested, but Solas would hear none of it.

“Strip and bathe her. Perhaps the residue from the fires in the temple was enough to make her ill,” he ordered and resumed reciting healing spells not even caring to disguise his dialect.

The medics had Nehn stripped and were washing her off when one of them announced, “I found a wound.”

Solas stepped closer and looked at the small cut on Nehn’s thigh. It was barely bigger than a cat scratch, but he saw the unmistakeable glow of a tiny shard of red lyrium in it. With the medics’ assistance, he got the shard removed, and Nehn’s color and condition began to improve rapidly.

“Right again. I”ll never be able to live with you now,” Nehn joked while holding her hand out to Solas.

“Vhen... Inquisitor, you must stop scaring me like this,” he said nearly slipping and calling her his heart.

Nehn pretended she hadn’t heard his error, but her own heart twisted to know that he still cared for her. “Thank you,” she whispered while squeezing his hand before the sleeping draught the healers had given her pulled her into the Fade.

“It was nothing, vhenan,” he answered once she was asleep. Gently brushing the hair out of her face, he fought the urge to kiss her. _Where is that brute of a boyfriend of hers now?_ he thought angrily. _I thought I could trust him to keep her safe._

As if on cue, Cullen appeared a short while later, ashen faced and guilty looking. “Will she be alright?” Solas overheard him asking one of the healers.

“She will. No thanks to you,” Solas snarled. 

Cullen looked stricken by Solas words. _At least he has the good sense to be ashamed,_ Solas fumed inwardly. Cullen cautiously approached Nehn who was resting on a cot and covered by a blanket. Solas was still holding Nehn’s hand and didn’t drop it when Cullen kneeled beside her.

“You saved her,” Cullen said stunned. “Thank you. I didn’t even realize she had fallen ill. I should have been paying better attention,” he berated himself.

“Yes, you should have,” Solas chastised. “She stayed in the temple much longer than necessary because of your damned obsession. Or was it you were enjoying the vapors from the lyrium?” Solas accused.

“I... no, I don’t think it was that... Maker,” Cullen stammered.

“Your addiction must never come in the way of her safety again,” Solas said with an icy glare. “Perhaps you should reconsider your involvement with her.”

Cullen’s hand flew to the back of his neck. Too many emotions were raging in his mind for him to think clearly, but he knew Solas was wrong on that account. He shook his head and took Nehn’s other hand returning Solas’ glare. _I won’t be manipulated into leaving her._

Nevertheless Cullen started questioning whether there was some truth to Solas’ statement about his addiction. Had being around the red lyrium clouded his judgment or was it just the hatred he felt toward Samson? Whatever the reason, he had lost sight of what was most important. _She’s going to be livid when she wakes up, and I’ll deserve every barb she throws at me,_ he thought while stroking her cheek.

When Nehn woke a few hours later, both men were still beside her engaged in what appeared to be a staring contest. “So have you stopped playing chess and are now just seeing who will blink first?” Nehn quizzed. Both men looked away from each other and relief spread over their faces to hear her back to being a smart ass.

“It seems you will recover,” Solas commented.

“Thank the Maker,” Cullen exhaled.

“Yes, well my nose is itching. I’ll need one of you to let go, so I can scratch it,” Nehn suggested. Neither man released her hand. “Seriously? Are we back to this again?” she asked clearly peeved. “Both of you let go now,” she ordered, and they grudgingly complied.

Nehn scratched her nose and started to sit up, but Solas stopped her. “You aren’t clothed.”

“It isn’t as if either of you haven’t seen me before,” she snipped. “My back is sore. I need to stretch,” she explained while sitting up although she held her blanket to her chest as she did.

“I’m sure Solas could get you something to wear,” Cullen suggested.

“Or you could go yourself,” Solas tossed back.

“Fenedhis, stop it!” Nehn yelled. “Cullen, go get me clothes, please. Solas, please get me something to drink. And when you come back, try to remember that you’re both grown men.”

Solas and Cullen each stomped away angrily to fulfill Nehn’s requests and immediately began to plan how to get rid of the other without incurring Nehn’s ire. Perhaps it was the years she’d spent refereeing Sylvia and Falon’s spats, but Nehn knew what Cullen and Solas were thinking. When they’d returned, she announced, “One more thing, I don’t want you scheming to make the other one look bad.” Both men blanched and looked sheepish at her words. 

Undeterred, Solas growled, “He didn’t even notice you were injured.”

“He wants you back and is trying to leverage my mistake to that end,” Cullen accused.

Nehn put her hands to her temples and angrily exclaimed, “Enough. I feel awful and all you can do is take swipes at each other. Go someplace else if you can’t behave here.”

“I’m not leaving you,” both men said in unison and then nearly came to blows before Dorian stepped in.

“I believe the lady requested that you act like adults. As amusing as your pissing contest is to watch, she’s tired of it. Now run along. I’ll take care of her,” Dorian said firmly.

Cullen and Solas skulked off, and Dorian settled down beside Nehn. “I’m a tad jealous. I’ve never had men fighting over me.”

“It’s highly overrated,” Nehn confided. “Even if they come up with atrociously ugly armor, I prefer when they’re working alongside each other.”

“That pink thing is an abomination, and Bull was serious about having one made for himself. He’s already spoken to Dagna. Why are we cursed to love men with bad fashion sense?” Dorian huffed.

“You _love_ Bull?” Nehn said giddily. Her mood was instantly brightened by the idea of returning the relentless teasing the Tevinter had assaulted her with about Cullen.

Dorian looked sad at her question but didn’t respond.

“Have you told him?” Nehn asked quietly.

“It isn’t something you just spit out ... well maybe _you_ can just say it, but not me, not to him,” Dorian responded while looking off to the horizon.

“Dorian... there’s no way he doesn’t feel the same about you. You’re perfect - you tell me so all the time,” Nehn teased, but Dorian stayed somber. She reached over and took his hand. “How can I help?”

“You don’t happen to have any spare dragon teeth - do you?” he quizzed. 

“What?” Nehn said thinking she’d misheard.

“It’s a Qunari thing. You take a dragon’s tooth, split it in half, and give it to your _kadan_ to show your affection. I was thinking that might be a way to tell him without _telling_ him,” Dorian explained.

“I can certainly check, and we’ve no shortage of dragons left to kill,” Nehn offered.

“It’s no wonder they fight over you. You’re a gem. You know that - right?” 

“My best friend makes sure to remind me of it often,” Nehn answered while hugging Dorian tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adoribull makes me sooo happy. I wish biology worked differently and they could have cute little saarabas babies together. For some reason, I imagine their sons would have mustaches even at birth.


	87. Chapter 87

By early the next morning, Nehn was up and about although she was miserably itchy because she had developed hives where the red lyrium shard had been lodged in her thigh. The combination of trying not to scratch and annoyance at Cullen and Solas’ behavior the day prior made her exceptionally irritable. When Cassandra asked to speak with her, Nehn snapped that she was tired of mothering everyone and then immediately apologized for being so sharp when she saw the hurt expression on the Seeker’s face.

Nehn felt even more terrible for being harsh when she heard what Cassandra had to share. Cassandra had finished the book given to her by Lord Seeker Lucius and had learned that her Order had long known how to reverse tranquility - the rite that disconnected mages from their emotions and magical abilities. Even more, Cassandra as well as all Seekers had been made tranquil without their knowledge and then had the process reversed during their Vigil. It was that process - not faith - that granted Seeker’s their exceptional abilities and immunity to possession.

Cassandra was devastated by the revelation, and Nehn couldn’t blame her. Nehn could hardly imagine a worse violation than to ravage someone’s mind and then claim that the changes experienced by the person after the damage was undone were somehow divine gifts for that person’s faith rather than after effects of trauma. Some part of Nehn even agreed with Lucius’ attempt to end the Order although she absolutely disagreed with the means he chose. The Order’s name - the Seeker’s of Truth- seemed like a cruel irony to Nehn when she learned how it perpetuated itself through lies.

Adding to Nehn’s disquiet was the fact that Cassandra was seeking not only her sympathy but her advice. In light of what she had learned, Cassandra was unsure if she should abandon her search for any remaining Seekers or continue the search and share her findings with the remnants of her Order. Nehn wanted to dodge answering Cassandra’s query, but the earnestness in Cassandra’s face pressed Nehn to share her opinion.

“I think you should continue to look for the Seekers. Share the truth with those you find and then decide together if the Order can be resurrected without its secrets,” Nehn answered while also considering the implications Cassandra’s discovery had on the selection for the next Divine. There was no way Cassandra could be the Divine as well as rebuild the Seekers. _Leliana as the head of Thedas’ largest religious organization... I don’t know whether to be excited or terrified._

After Cassandra left, a messenger approached Nehn with a stack of reports. “The spymaster and ambassador need these addressed immediately. I was instructed to await your response,” he announced and then stared at Nehn expectantly. His intent for her to “hop to” couldn’t have been more clear if he had spoken it aloud. Nehn groaned and sat down to read. Two hours and a bad hand cramp later, Nehn finished responding to the last report. _Maybe I can catch a short nap,_ she thought as Cullen came inside her tent. _Or not,_ she inwardly groaned.

“I see that you’re feeling better,” he said cautiously. They hadn’t spoken since Dorian had shooed Solas and him away the day before.

“Other than being so itchy that I’m about to lose my mind, I’m fine,” she answered while pulling up her dress to show him the massive welts covering her leg. 

Cullen winced at the sight and said, “Do the healers think you’re _allergic_ to red lyrium?”

“I’m allergic to so many things it wouldn’t be surprising. It certainly doesn’t agree with me.”

Cullen looked around her tent nervously, swallowed hard, and then spoke. “About yesterday... “

“Can we simply say the entire day was a massive clusterfuck not to be repeated?” Nehn interrupted.

Cullen chuckled. “I might have put it more delicately, but yes - I would like that very much.” His face, however, still showed concern.

Nehn took Cullen’s hand and asked wearily, “Is there something else wrong?”

“You sound so tired,” he commented.

“I am, but that isn’t what’s weighing on your mind.”

“I don’t want to bother you,” he hesitated.

“Too late for that. Out with it,” Nehn said with exasperation.

“Solas said that I was enjoying taking in the red lyrium vapors, and that’s why I didn’t notice you were getting sick,” Cullen admitted.

“Were you?” Nehn asked pointedly.

“I wouldn’t use the term _enjoying_ but I did feel the effects. I had a clarity of purpose, and my body didn’t ache. Between that and wanting to find Samson, I wasn’t even considering you,” he said with downcast eyes.

“Did you take any?” 

“Maker, no! I would never take the red,” Cullen exclaimed.

“No, you wouldn’t. You stood in a temple filled with the stuff, and you didn’t take it. If the rooms were riddled with regular lyrium, you wouldn’t have succumbed either. Lyrium will always call to you, but you’ve the willpower to resist,” Nehn said while putting a hand to Cullen’s chest.

“It doesn’t bother you?” he asked.

“What?” 

“That I’m an addict,” Cullen answered ashamed. 

“You’re a person fighting an addiction - not one giving into it. I love you in spite of your addiction just like you put up with me even though I can be a touch emotional.”

“A touch?” Cullen asked with a crooked grin.

“Careful there. I’m this far away from losing my cool entirely,” Nehn warned while holding her fingers up about a millimeter apart.

“Anything I can do to help?” Cullen asked.

“I’d like a different job. This one sucks,” Nehn joked, but Cullen could tell that she also meant it. 

He folded her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. A slight tremble in her shoulders let him know that she was crying. “I’m so tired,” she whispered. 

“I know, love. Go back to Skyhold. Be with your children,” he directed.

“But Bull and you said that...” Nehn started.

“We need to grow up. You’ve worn yourself down to nothing, and we keep demanding more of you. Go home. Rest,” he advised while rubbing her back.

“You’re too good to me,” she exhaled.

“I could never be good enough to you, but I’ll try,” he responded before kissing her sweetly. “Take a nap then get your things together. We should be able to reach the nearest eluvian within two days if we ride hard.”

“You’re coming with me?” she questioned.

“I’ll take you to the eluvian. Fenris will go with you. He mentioned wanting to return to Skyhold as soon as possible - something about speaking with Dagna.”

Nehn’s face brightened. “He’s going to let her see if she can remove his tattoos then. I wasn’t even sure if he was even considering it.”

“Is that possible?”

“If it is, Dagna would be the one who could figure it out. I hope for his sake that she can. He’s in constant pain.”

“Wouldn’t he go into withdrawals?” Cullen asked.

“I don’t know. I guess that’s another thing for Dagna and Fenris to consider. Creators, I hate lyrium,” Nehn seethed while scratching at the welts on her leg.

“Don’t scratch. You’ll just make the itching worse,” Cullen chided, and Nehn growled in response. “That’s my cue to leave. Lie down, rest. I’ll keep people away,” he said before exiting the tent to stand guard at its entrance.

********************

Nehn’s respite in Skyhold was just what she needed to recharge - that and the news that Sylvia and Sionn had reconsidered their decision to leave. When Sionn learned Keeper Deshanna had accepted a position on the Wycome city council and intended to have the clan settle there, he backed off on his insistence that Sylvia and he rejoin the clan.

When Sylvia told Nehn of their decision, Nehn was so overjoyed that she couldn’t speak. She hugged Sylvia and blubbered happy tears.

“There’s something else, Mamae,” Sylvia said once Nehn had settled down. “I felt the baby move for the first time last night.” Nehn squealed with delight and then began to babble at Sylvia’s stomach in elven.

“I can’t wait to hold the baby,” Nehn breathed. “There’s nothing more wonderful than the smell of a newborn.”

“Any chance you’ll give me another brother or sister?” Sylvia quizzed.

Nehn exhaled. “I’m a tad bit busy right now.”

“I mean after Corypheus falls. Cullen would make a good father. He’s practically assumed that roll as it is,” Sylvia pushed.

“It’s so much work, and the baby would be human. I don’t know anything about humans,” Nehn protested.

“But you’re considering it - strongly,” Sylvia grinned. “You always grouse the loudest right before you change your mind about something.”

“I’m that predictable - huh?” Nehn remarked. “I’d rather not have children without being married. Who would perform the ceremony? We can’t approach the Chantry or Deshanna.”

“That’s easy,” Sylvia replied. “His old flame - the pirate.”

“What?” Nehn asked completely confused.

“She’s the captain of her own ship. Have her sail to open waters and marry you. No Chantry or Keepers required,” Sylvia said triumphantly.

“That’s... that’s brilliant, actually. Do you think she’d do it? She isn’t exactly a proponent of monogamy,” Nehn wondered.

“She’s got a very good heart and a huge soft spot for Cullen. I don’t think it would take much arm twisting - if any,” Sylvia pointed out. “I’ll even put a bug in the Commander’s ear and make him think he came up with the idea himself.”

“Seriously?”

“This baby needs a playmate,” Sylvia answered emphatically while rubbing her belly. “And you’re a wonderful mother.” 

“I’ll _consider_ another child, but go ahead and share your pirate wedding idea with Cullen. I like that in any case.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for Sylvia getting to stay! It's a good thing Deshanna became such a "flat ear" lover as Sionn would say.


	88. Chapter 88

As his mother prepared to take her final shot during their archery match, Falon noticed Cullen approaching. He waited until she was just about to release her arrow and then said, “Commander!” while snapping to attention. Nehn’s shot veered off course, and she began to stomp her feet in anger.

“You did that on purpose!” she accused.

“I was just saluting an officer,” Falon protested with a wry grin after Cullen had saluted him in return.

Nehn’s eyes narrowed, and she tossed her bow to the ground in disgust.

“Not very sporting, Mamae. You’d think you’d be used to defeat by now,” Falon teased which caused Nehn to launch into a stream of elven expletives.

_Lavellans love winning but despise losing,_ Cullen thought while fighting back a laugh. Nehn was ridiculously competitive, and her children were cutthroat as well. The first time he played chess with Asha, Cullen had been shocked by the smack talk the nine year old spewed. When Asha lost, she had challenged Cullen to one rematch after another until she finally bested him. It took her months and many practice games against Kieran, but she was exultant when she won. Cullen offered to play her again, but she declined. “I don’t really like chess,” Asha had explained. “I just needed to know I could beat you.” 

“How long has it been since you’ve won against Falon?” Cullen dared to ask.

Nehn snarled, and the air began to smell of ozone. Undeterred by his mother’s threatened release of lightning, Falon was quick to respond. “The last time she won was three months ago when I had a bad cold and sneezed during a shot.”

“That’s just an excuse,” Nehn argued. “I was ahead by a good bit, and you sneezed on purpose to make it seem like you wouldn’t have lost otherwise.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Mamae,” Falon threw back while twirling his bow in his hands several times before jauntily putting it on his back.

Nehn’s irritation at her loss faded upon seeing Falon’s flamboyant display, and she started laughing until she snorted. Cullen shook his head and joined in. Only Falon dared to repeatedly antagonize Nehn after a loss. The boy knew just how much he could push her without ever going too far. Cullen wished he had that skill, but he suspected Nehn’s tolerance for Falon’s mouth stemmed more from a mother’s love than anything else. 

When Nehn got a hold of herself, she bounced over to Cullen and wrapped her arms around his neck. Cullen flinched a bit at her display of affection in the middle of Skyhold’s courtyard, but then he returned her hug while wearing a dopey grin. _My men can get over it,_ he told himself as he drank in Nehn’s embrace before reluctantly letting her go.

“I’ve missed you so much!” she exclaimed. “I thought you weren’t to return for another two days. This is the best surprise.”

“Our younger officers need more command experience, so I rode ahead with your team to give them a chance to lead their divisions without me hovering.”

“So you didn’t hurry home because you missed me?” Nehn pouted flirtatiously.

“That may have factored into my decision making,” Cullen smirked then whispered in a low voice, “How do you manage to get more beautiful each time I see you?”

Nehn blushed and gave him another hug before grabbing his hand as well as Falon’s. “Both of my boys with me... best afternoon ever!” she announced while dragging them toward the main keep. “This development warrants celebratory cookies.”

“Mamae will come up with any excuse to eat sweets,” Falon said to Cullen as Nehn rushed off to the kitchens to get cookies.

“Has she always been this way?” Cullen quizzed.

“The Dalish have to barter for sugar, so we rarely had anything requiring it when we were with the clan. When Papa went to a town to trade with humans, he would always make sure to get us a cake or cookies. It was a ritual. He’d come back pretending to be empty handed saying that Mamae was sweet enough on her own. Mamae would fake a pout, and Papa would bring out the treats. Mamae would bounce around beaming as if she were truly surprised. It seemed stupid at the time...” 

“But you miss moments like that now that your father is gone,” Cullen finished for him.

“Yeah,” Falon agreed but then clammed up because the discussion had turned too personal. Cullen didn’t press him to say more and looked toward the kitchens hoping Nehn would come back soon. _I wonder if it upsets him to see his mother with me,_ Cullen wondered.

After an uncomfortable silence, Falon volunteered quietly, “I’m glad that she has you. I like seeing her happy.”

“I do, too,” Cullen admitted with relief.

Nehn arrived with a tray of cookies a few minutes later. “I had to threaten using Cole to get these. That cook is so stingy with her sweets.”

“Threaten using Cole?” Cullen questioned.

“When he first arrived, he stole from the kitchens all the time. One of the scullery maids told me the cook was afraid she was losing her mind when things first started going missing. Then when she found out it was a spirit making the thefts, she got terrified and began carrying a frying pan around all the time for defensive purposes. Cole tried to make things up to her, but he managed to scare her worse. She’s utterly paranoid about him.”

“And you use that against her?” Cullen asked with a hint of accusation.

“All’s fair in love and baked goods,” Nehn declared and then triumphantly chomped on a piece of shortbread.

Later that night as they got ready for bed, Cullen noted that Nehn seemed much more content. 

“I didn’t realize how much it was bothering me that Sylvia and Sionn were leaving until they changed their minds. I’ve been giddy ever since she told me they had decided to stay and raise the baby here,” Nehn admitted with a smile.

“Deshanna did you a huge favor accepting that position in Wycome. Did you ever imagine that she’d reverse her opinions on living amongst humans so completely?” Cullen quizzed.

“No, I would have never guessed it or that she would take a human lover,” Nehn said with conspiratorial glee.

“She didn’t!” Cullen exclaimed.

“One of Sylvia’s friends sent her a letter saying that Deshanna had fallen in love with a human merchant named Linus. Leliana’s agents confirmed the story last week. I couldn’t stop laughing when I heard the news. The heart wants what it wants,” Nehn giggled.

“It most certainly does,” Cullen agreed while kissing her neck. “And mine is completely fixated on you. _Argh lath maw, Vein-on._ ”

Nehn smiled at his garbled elven. “Ar lath ma, vhenan,” she said sweetly in return.

“I butchered it. Didn’t I?” Cullen grimaced.

“You sounded a bit like a drunken pirate, but that could be strangely appropriate if Sylvia gets her way.” Nehn teased.

“What do you mean?”

“She has this scheme to see us married by a ship’s captain. She suggested asking Isabela,” Nehn explained.

“Bela? Marry us?” Cullen questioned and then began to hoot with laughter.

“I didn’t think a pirate wedding was that bad of an idea,” Nehn said crossing her arms indignantly.

“No, it’s not that... it’s just...” Cullen continued guffawing until tears formed in his eyes.

“Forget I mentioned it,” Nehn announced haughtily and pulled away.

“Don’t get mad. A wedding at sea is a good solution, but asking Bela to preside is an awful idea. She’d probably spend half the ceremony trying to arrange a three way, and the other half trying to convince us not to go through with it.”

“I think she would surprise you. She has a good heart underneath that libidinous exterior,” Nehn protested. “Besides this is all academic, you haven’t _asked_ me yet - not officially.”

“True enough, but I feel fairly confident of your reply,” Cullen smirked.

“Well, don’t just toss a ring at me from across the table and say, _Here it is._ ” Nehn suggested.

“Who would do that?” Cullen said with a furrowed brow.

“Sionn. We all knew they planned to marry, but he got lazy with the details. She nearly dumped him, and I doubt he’ll ever hear the end of it.” 

“I can see why. Trust me, I plan to do much better,” Cullen assured her while kissing her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the "Here it is." proposal is taken from my own experience. Mr. Spice is still trying to live it down twenty years later. : )


	89. Chapter 89

Nehn’s hands were shaking as she pulled out the runestone Dagna made from studying the tools Cullen had recovered from the Temple of Dumat. She crouched behind a rock and prepared to stand and fight. Solas put a calming hand on her arm and whispered that they could defeat Samson. _I’m not scared. I'm furious,_ Nehn thought as she gave Solas an icy glare. Biting her lip, she signaled Zevran to flank the Red Templars that stood before them. Fenris eagerly clenched his greatsword and waited for Nehn to initiate the attack. 

The tiny elf took a deep breath and promised herself that she would have time to sort through what she had witnessed in the Arbor Wilds and within the Temple of Mythal later. After a good meal and a long soak in a hot bath, she could consider that there were ancient elves still alive in Thedas. When she was home and tucked in bed, she could marvel how millennia old magics still worked in Mythal’s temple and that she had successfully completed rites of petition to enter the temple’s inner sanctum. Once she was safe in Skyhold’s walls, she could give thanks that the sentinels who guarded the temple eventually allied with her forces rather than continue to decimate them.

Later... she could ponder the discrepancies between Solas’ stories about the elven gods and the ones she had grown up hearing. Later... she would think about how the ancient elves shared Solas’ build, demeanor, and odd dialect. Later... she would deal with the pain of learning that the elven sentinels shared Solas’ disdain for the Dalish and other modern elves. Later... she would deal with the realization that she had loved an immortal and shared his bed. Now... now she just needed to survive and reach the Well of Sorrows before Corypheus.

She raised her team’s barriers and headed straight for Corypheus’ general while Solas and Fenris took out his guards. Praying that Dagna’s rune would work, she released its enchantment toward Samson. His armor crumbled, and he raged that he would still end Nehn even without its protections. He was wrong. Before Nehn could even throw her first spell, Zevran had slid behind the general and covered his mouth with a rag. Samson crumpled to the ground as the concoction on the rogue’s cloth took hold and rendered him unconscious. Although Nehn would have preferred to simply kill Samson, Cullen and Leliana wanted a chance to interrogate him. _I hope Leliana breaks you,_ she thought as she bound Samson’s hands and feet and injected him with a long acting sedative.

The ancient elven sentinel Abelas appeared a short while later and sprinted up a ziggurat in the middle of the temple. _That must lead to the well,_ Nehn realized as she fade stepped behind him. Morrigan, who had shape shifted into a crow, reached the top of the stairway first and blocked Abelas from reaching the well which was a large glowing pool of liquid situated in front of a giant eluvian.

“So the sanctum is despoiled at last,” Abelas declared with revulsion. When Morrigan argued that he threatened to destroy it himself, the sentinel held that it was better gone than given to the undeserving. Morrigan responded with an invective that the ancient elves would rather waste their knowledge than share it. Nehn stepped between the two and ordered Morrigan to back off. While the witch stopped her diatribe against Abelas and his kin, she implored Nehn to consider using the well if it might help defeat Corypheus.

“Do you even know what you ask?” Abelas questioned as he gestured toward the pool. “As each servant of Mythal reached the end of their years, they would pass on their knowledge through this.” Turning back toward Nehn, he said, “All that we were. All that we knew. It would be lost forever.” 

“You’d rather destroy it than see it passed on?” Nehn asked in disbelief. 

Solas spoke before Abelas could respond. “There are other places, friend. Other duties. Your people yet linger,” he announced with certainty. _This just keeps getting better, so there are even more ancient elves out there? How nice of you to make that known,_ Nehn seethed inwardly.

Abelas seemed intrigued by Solas’ statement and stared at him while asking, “Elvhen such as you?”

“Yes. Such as I,” Solas admitted quietly. _Just in case you weren’t completely sure the arrogant ass was an immortal, Nehn, there’s your proof,_ Nehn raged while fighting to keep her face calm. She didn’t need her personal issues clouding this negotiation. She would deal with Solas later.

Abelas’ features softened as he looked between Nehn’s party and the well. He admitted that she had a righteousness to her and questioned if she wanted to use the well in hopes of defeating her enemy. She felt humbled by his gaze and merely nodded her assent. He had guarded this well for millennia and was offering it to her. Still there was something about the glowing waters that Nehn mistrusted. As if sensing her fears, Abelas noted that a mortal might not be able to understand the well and that all who used it were forever tied to Mythal’s will.

_Tied to Mythal? Forever?_ Nehn didn’t like the idea of giving control over to a god. The well held knowledge that might allow her to defeat Corypheus. It also contained the mysteries and secrets of the ancient elves. She could restore The People with such wisdom, but would it be worth the price?

Morrigan held no such reservations and laughed at the idea of being bound to a goddess that she doubted even existed. Nehn knew better. Mythal had certainly lived although she may not have been a true god. _Worry about that later,_ Nehn instructed herself. The well and its sentinels were proof of her existence. Even standing several feet from the well, Nehn could sense the powerful geas that it held. Whoever used it would certainly be tied to something or someone.

Nehn’s thoughts were interrupted by Morrigan and Abelas arguing over Mythal. Her mind swirled when she heard that Mythal wasn’t locked away with the other Creators but had been murdered. Even odder was his insistence that Fen’Harel was not the culprit for her demise. _Gods, did we get anything right?_ Nehn wondered. _Worry about that later,_ she reminded herself.

Abelas began to walk away and Nehn asked if he would just leave the temple. He answered that he had no reason to remain, and Nehn’s heart broke at his words. To have served so long, so faithfully... and to watch all you had protected slip away. She couldn’t imagine enduring such a loss. Solas again spoke reminding him that there was a place for Abelas and his people if they sought it out. 

_All of our walks in the Fade and talks about ancient elven culture, and you never happened to take me to meet actual elves. You will so be hearing from me later, prick._

Nehn nearly lost her cool in the temple when Solas spoke in his odd dialect to Abelas. _I get it. You’re one of them. No need to rub it in._ Solas words, however, were kind as he wished for Abelas to find a new name and purpose. Nehn agreed with that Abelas had been sorrowful long enough. He deserved a better life. 

“Mythal’enaste,” Nehn whispered, and Abelas gave her an amused look before continuing on his way. _What? Are even my prayers not good enough for you? I’ve had enough of bald elves to last a lifetime,_ she thought as she reached her decision about whether to partake from the well.

“Morrigan, if you want it, you can have it,” Nehn announced. Her freedom wasn’t worth whatever knowledge the Elvhen had. Solas clearly knew plenty without the well, and she doubted he would even take it if offered. He prized free will too much to allow himself to be bound to a geas. _Sera was right. Elvhenan was better left in the past,_ she realized as tears filled her eyes. _Later, Nehn, you can cry later. Hold it together just a little while longer._

Not giving Nehn a chance to change her mind, Morrigan stepped into the glowing pool and knelt to drink. The glowing waters enveloped her and for a moment Nehn was worried that the sorceress would be killed. Morrigan survived, however. When the waters receded, the witch spoke in an ancient elven dialect before she regained her bearings and proclaimed that she was whole.

Nehn didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. Morrigan was crafty and self-centered. Nehn hoped that the witch wouldn’t betray her trust. _Can’t change things now. Best to move on._

No sooner had Nehn started to ask what their next step should be Corypheus appeared on the far side of the cavernous room that held the Well of Sorrows. _That’s not good._ Following Morrigan’s encouragement to go through the eluvian that stood in front of the now empty well, Nehn and her companions narrowly escaped capture. Amazingly, the eluvian spit them out at Skyhold rather than at the Crossroads or some other location. _It’s as if it knew where we needed to go. Is that because of Morrigan’s connection to the well? Or is Mythal guiding us?_

_Later. I’ll deal with all of this later. Now I need to get word to our people in the Arbor Wilds. Now I need to ask Cullen to return to Skyhold quickly. Now I need to hold my babies. I can deal with the rest of this mess later,_ she told herself as she left her companions without a word to head to the rookery and then her quarters.


	90. Chapter 90

Nehn’s legs ached and her heart hurt as she climbed the stairs to the rookery. One of Leliana’s agents greeted her with surprise and then rushed to get the materials needed to send a coded message to the Inquisition’s main forces. Knowing the message could be intercepted, Nehn wrote simply _Objective achieved. All safe and whole. Send C home quickly._ “Make sure to send this in the tubes that make it clear the message is from Skyhold, and send several ravens with duplicate messages,” Nehn ordered. 

_I hope there is something left of our forces for the ravens to find,_ Nehn thought and then tried to push the dark idea aside. _They survived the dragon at Haven and Adamant, Nehn. They will survive it in the Wilds._ She started to pray to the Creators for protection for her friends and soldiers and then laughed mirthlessly. _You’d just as well pray to a rock._ If the gods were anything like the Elvhen she had met, they would care nothing for the concerns of a _shemlen_ like her. The vallaslin on my face marks me as a fool - that’s why Abelas poked fun at my wearing it. _Deal with that later, Nehn._ she reminded herself and then thanked Leliana’s agent who had the good sense to pretend not to notice Nehn’s tear filled eyes.

Nehn started down the winding staircase that ringed the tower but stopped her descent. Solas would be in his room at the bottom of the stairs. _I bet that ass is already starting on the next panel of his fucking mural._ If she tried to speak with him now, she would devolve into a weepy, nonsensical mess. She detoured out the second floor exit near Dorian’s cubby and crossed to the other side of the great hall to the staircase near Josephine’s office. _Disaster averted for the nonce._

Nehn’s family was still at work or lessons, so she went directly to her room. Stripping off her armor, she felt slightly better. Conjuring a bath of near-scalding water and adding vanilla scented oil to it, Nehn drank in the aroma and then eased into the tub. _I wonder if I can just stay here until Cullen gets home,_ she thought as she let her head slip under the water. _Probably not. The water won’t stay warm, and my skin will shrivel._ Nehn reemerged from beneath the surface and began to scrub herself vigorously as if she could get all the hurt out of her if she merely got clean. After soaping herself several times, Nehn let the water out of the tub and conjured more water to rinse clean. _At least I smell good now._

Getting out of the tub, she dried off, put on a robe, and then wrapped her hair in a towel. Sitting before the fireplace, she conjured a fire saying a prayer to Sylaise from automaticity rather than belief. She laughed at her ritual. _I wonder how ticked off the Creators would be if they could hear us lesser elves praying for their blessings._ Nehn touched the vallaslin dedicating her to Sylaise and sighed. _At least Asha and Falon won’t be branded as imbeciles trying to please gods that care nothing for them._

Nehn’s attendants heard of her arrival and came to check on her. She asked them to bring her a meal and a plate of cookies. When the food arrived, she found that she didn’t have much of an appetite. Everything tasted like ashes until she tried the cookies which had chocolate icing. _The cook must have missed me,_ Nehn thought as she licked the icing off a cookie and then gobbled it enthusiastically. Four cookies later, Nehn’s mood was substantially improved. 

Wrapping herself in Cullen’s mantle, Nehn snuggled into the pile of pillows on her bed and quickly fell asleep. Her last thought before slipping into the Fade was that she would speak with Solas when she woke up. _Better to just get it over and done._

Nehn woke up to a pungent smell and wetness on her face. “Ew, Ginger, get down. No licking!,” she ordered as she pushed Sylvia’s mabari away. Putting a pillow over her head, Nehn tried to go back to sleep, but Asha’s giggling roused her. “Come on, Mamae. You can’t sleep the day away,” she announced. 

“But I’m warm and toasty, and I was having the best dream,” Nehn protested.

“Nope, out of bed,” Sylvia’s voice chimed in. “You’ve slept over six hours. You’re going to get your days and nights mixed up.”

“You already sound like a mother,” Nehn whined as she peeked out from beneath her pillow fort. Sylvia’s belly had grown noticeably while Nehn was in the Arbor Wilds. Excited to see her grandchild’s growth, Nehn popped up and said, “Oh, the baby’s getting so big!”

“Way to make me feel like a druffalo, Mamae,” Sylvia said with irritation.

“You’re tiny, da’len. Your tummy is all baby,” Nehn reassured and looked longingly at Sylvia’s belly. Recognizing that Nehn desperately wanted to feel the baby move, Sylvia took her mother’s hand and guided it to where the baby had been kicking recently. It gave Nehn’s hand and swift kick, and she squealed with excitement. The baby moved again, and Nehn promised, “I’m going to spoil you sweet. Whatever you want, just ask Grandmamae.”

Sylvia groaned. “Mamae, you can’t be serious.”

“It is my right and privilege to fill my grandbabies with sweets, give them noisy toys, and send them back to Sionn and you,” Nehn announced while patting Sylvia’s belly. 

“Just remember you’re considering having more children. Turn about’s fair play,” Sylvia warned.

“More children? With the Commander?” Asha asked sounding shocked.

Nehn glared at Sylvia for mentioning the idea in front of her little sister, and said, “If Cullen and I were to marry, then we _might_ decide to have children.”

Asha began to hop up and down. “Do it! Do it! Do it! I want to be a big sister!”

“We’ll see,” Nehn said. Now that her daughter knew it was a possibility, Asha would hound Cullen and her until they were married and expecting. _I doubt Sylvia’s slip of the tongue was unintentional. She would have done well at the Winter Palace, too._ “In any event, we have to end the war first..”

“How did things go in the Wilds? Why isn’t everyone else back with you?” Sylvia segued.

“It was very hard fighting especially once the dragon appeared. I don’t know how the battle ended...” Nehn said with concern etched on her face.

“They’ll be alright, Mamae,” Sylvia soothed putting a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Did you get what you needed there at least?”

“I hope so,” Nehn replied. “Morrigan is sorting through what she learned, but I think she’ll be able to identify Corypheus’ weakness. I’ll feel better about everything when I receive word about our troops and the rest of my team.”

“Then it will be our job to keep your mind occupied while you wait for news. I don’t want you turning into a maudlin mess on me,” Sylvia teased.

“Sylvia, I’m so glad you’re staying. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you,” Nehn confessed.

“You’d put the Inquisition in debt buying cookies and pillows. And you’d probably immolate the occasional noble,” Sylvia quipped. 

Nehn snickered at her daughter’s assessment. “I love you girls,” she said as she beamed at Asha and Sylvia. _I’m blessed. Creators or no... I’m blessed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little self care goes a long way - as does the support of family. Still can't wait for Nehn to hash things out with Solas. Do you think she should speak with him before or after Cullen returns?


	91. Chapter 91

Nehn spent much of the evening catching up with her family then decided to speak with Solas. For a subtle advantage, she changed into the black leathers that she knew he detested and fixed her hair in a style that he had deemed impractical. She applied a touch of makeup to her face and a dab of vanilla to her pulse points. Closing her eyes, she centered herself and then cast a calming aura. _You can do this, Nehn._

As she had expected, Solas was busy sketching out the next panel of his mural. He didn’t look away from his work when she entered his room and only acknowledged her when she stood beside him and cleared her throat.

“Is there something you need, Inquisitor?” he asked insouciantly.

Nehn had promised herself that she would keep her temper in check. _He isn’t going to make this easy._ She took a deep breath and responded, “Solas, do you have time to talk?”

“Go on,” he said without stopping his work.

She wanted to slap the charcoal out of his hand, but she calmly insisted, “I’d prefer to have your full attention.”

Solas grudgingly put down his charcoal and wiped his hands on a towel before saying, “I assume you want to talk about the Arbor Wilds. I’m curious... What will you do with the power of the well now that you have it?”

His question briefly threw Nehn off balance. _Oh no you don’t. You don’t get to make this about me and my choices._ “That would be a better question for Morrigan. She drank from the well not me. I didn’t care to be bound to any god.”

A small smile crossed Solas face. “That showed more wisdom than I have come to expect from you.”

_A backhanded compliment - and to think I would have once been elated to receive it._ “My choices aside, I came to ask why you never shared that you were Elvhen.”

“I thought it was self-evident,” Solas jested while pointing to his ears.

_That’s not what I meant, and you know it._ “I wish you had told me that you were alive before the elven empire fell,” she clarified.

“What makes you think that?” he questioned while feigning confusion.

_Stop the games._ “Solas, I know you are an ancient elf. You admitted as much to Abelas. Do you respect me so little that you will continue to lie when directly confronted with the truth?” she asked in a crescendo.

“No, I think the world of you,” Solas answered sincerely.

Nehn backed away shaking her head. “You have a peculiar way of showing it,” she snapped. “Was it amusing hearing my questions about ancient elves? Did it give you a thrill to watch me struggle to piece together our history when you knew it, lived it?” she snarled while accusingly pointing a finger toward him.

Solas said nothing in response and stared blankly at her as if she were delusional. _You won’t make me doubt myself. I know what I’ve seen and heard._ Hot, angry tears came to Nehn’s eyes and her voice trembled as she begged, “Please be honest with me.”

“I am being honest, but I doubt any answer I give will satisfy you,” Solas responded evenly. Crossing his arms and standing with his feet shoulder width apart, he sighed, “What do you want to know?”

“Are you an ancient elf?” Nehn quizzed.

“Why ask something you claim to already know?” he questioned.

“Why not answer? It is a yes or no question,” she pressed.

“Fine then - yes. But that answer no doubt only brings with it more questions,” he said condescendingly.

_Of course it leads to more questions. How could it not? Am I not worth the bother to answer?_ Nehn’s throat tightened until it made a painful burning knot. “I don’t know why I tried to speak with you,” Nehn finally admitted once she had reined in her emotions enough to talk.

“You’re hurt. Our involvement was a foolish and unnecessary emotional entanglement. It was selfish of me, and I’m sorry,” Solas said earnestly.

Nehn couldn’t control herself any longer, and she began to sob so hard that her shoulders shook. _A foolish entanglement? I don’t think you could have picked more hurtful words if you had tried._ She wanted to rage against Solas, but she didn’t have the strength or will to argue. The gods she had devoted herself to cared nothing for her and neither did this man who once claimed to have loved her.

“I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. _I’m sorry I ever met you._

“Harden your heart to a cutting edge. Turn your pain and anger against Corypheus. What happened to the Temple of Mythal was a tragedy, but we might yet regain the orb Corypheus carries,” Solas advised.

As Solas spoke, something clicked for Nehn. _This has always been about the orb. That’s why he joined the Inquisition, and why he’s stayed. He wants the foci, but why?_ she wondered. _Worry about that later. Deal with this now._

Another question had been nagging at Nehn. “Why didn’t you tell me about the gods? Why did you let me continue to pour my devotion toward them?”

“I _did_ tell you that I thought they weren’t deities in the true sense. I also shared many observations and stories about them. You chose to cling to what was familiar. It is a natural response. One shared by many.”

“But if you’d told me that you were Elvhen... that you’d seen it yourself...” Nehn protested.

“Would you have believed me? Even if you did, would it have been a good idea to shatter your belief system when you were adjusting to wielding the Mark’s magic and leading the Inquisition? Some lies are kindnesses,” he contended.

“No, some lies are conveniences,” she corrected. “Since you’re disinclined to speak of your past with a vallaslin wearing _shemlen_ , we have nothing left to discuss,” she said angrily and made to leave.

Solas’ brows knitted together, and he caught her by the arm before she could depart. “You are _shemlen_ in the sense that you have a shorter lifespan, but you are still a person, Inquisitor. Don’t let the sentinel’s statement undermine your identity."

_Why the concern?_ “You don’t need to soften the blow about how the Elvhen regard my kind. Abelas made that clear with his remarks. My vallaslin mark me as a fool for thinking the Elvhen gods would care for me or any other modern elves.”

“Is that why you think he mocked your vallaslin?” Solas asked sadly.

“Why else?”

“The answer to that questions might be more painful than what you already believe, but if you want to know I will tell you,” he replied solemnly.

_More painful than knowing your gods were false, vengeful despots? I’ve got to hear this._ “If it is the truth, then I would like to know it,” Nehn challenged.

Solas gestured for Nehn to sit down. _This better not be another one of your manipulations,_ Nehn thought bitterly as she took a seat on the chaise that sat along the wall of the rotunda. Solas sat down next to her and reached for her hands which she quickly withdrew. She raised an eyebrow and gave Solas an expectant look. _Let’s hear this soul shattering revelation..._

“In the time of Arlathan, vallaslin were slave markings,” Solas said and watched Nehn steadily for her response.

She sat momentarily dumbfounded and then forcefully argued, “That can’t be right. Tradition tells us that they were to honor the gods.”

“In a sense, that is true. A master would mark his slaves to show his devotion to a particular deity,” Solas explained.

“Then we were no better than Tevinter,” Nehn said sickened by the thought of elves enslaving each other. “All of the elves we met in the Arbor Wilds had vallaslin. Abelas and the other sentinels were all slaves?” Nehn asked with horror.

“Yes, I believe they were. I’m certain you now understand why the Elvhen find the Dalish practice of applying the tattoos as a rite of passage repugnant.”

Nehn touched the blood writing that swirled around her left eye. “And we vowed never to submit,” she said with a cracking voice before burying her face in her hands.

Solas sat beside her silently for a few minutes as she wept, then he gently placed a hand on her back. “If you want, I know a spell. I can remove the vallaslin.”

Nehn was confused. “If there was a spell to take the vallaslin away and everyone had magic, why didn’t they do it for themselves?”

“The simple answer is that few knew the spell or could perform it.”

“And the full answer?” Nehn asked while tilting her head and holding Solas’ gaze.

“Could perhaps be the subject of a conversation for another day,” Solas evaded suavely. He raised his chin and stared at Nehn as if considering something, and then shook his head. After a long pause, he asked, “Have you decided? Would you like me to remove your vallaslin?” 

Nehn didn’t want to be branded like a slave, but the vallaslin also marked her as Dalish. Without it, she would be another flat ear. What about Sylvia, Sionn, and her clan? Could she free herself and leave them bound?

“If you think I could learn the spell and you would be willing to teach me, then I would like my vallaslin taken away. If not, I won’t accept special treatment,” Nehn answered.

Solas was impressed by her response and smirked slightly. “Yes, I can teach you the spell. You may be disappointed, however, by how few people will choose to have you use it.”

As Solas prepared to cast, he waited for Nehn to echo her consent before he muttered the words that took the blood writing from her face. A blue glowing haze surrounded her, and she felt warmth on her skin but nothing else.

“Ar lasa mala revas. You are free,” Solas said as if in prayer before staring at Nehn with the same longing gaze that she often saw when they were lovers. 

Nehn felt her cheeks flush. She glanced away before asking, “Did it work?”

“Yes. Let me be the first to tell you that you are beautiful,” he said as he reached out to touch her face. 

“Ma serannas,” she said tersely and stood quickly to avoid his caress. 

“Ma nuvenin, da’len. I will teach you the spell tomorrow, Inquisitor.” As he spoke, his tone changed from a lover’s whisper to a clipped professional cadence. Nehn’s eyes went teary at the metamorphosis, and she pressed her lips together into a tight smile.

“Tomorrow then,” she echoed with a nod. _Did I really just let him take my vallaslin? Am I insane?_ she questioned as she went up the stairs to her room. _Worry about that later, Nehn,_ she ordered herself before collapsing on her bed and falling asleep fully clothed.


	92. Chapter 92

When Nehn woke, she dressed in a burgundy mages’ robe with gold embroidery then plaited her hair while avoiding the mirror. Nehn’s internal dialogue matched her emotional state - turbulent. One moment she was exultant that she had rejected false teachings. In the next, she was frantic that she had abandoned her faith on a hunch and the statements of a confirmed liar. Most of all, she was concerned about her family’s reaction.

She finally worked up the courage to examine her face in the mirror. _Naked... bare... stripped of belief..._ she shuddered and then was distracted by the fine lines near her eyes that she’d never noticed because of the tattoo. _Still marked by laughter and joy, though._ After pinching her cheeks to make up for the lack of color, Nehn headed to breakfast.

Her family was so absorbed in eating and talking that they didn’t notice her face at first. They were halfway through the meal and Nehn had nearly forgotten about her missing vallaslin when Sylvia screamed and pointed at Nehn’s left eye. Everyone turned and stared. Nehn reflexively put a hand to where her tattoo had been. “Your vallaslin’s gone,” Sylvia said with a panicked voice. 

“I know, da’len,” Nehn replied calmly. “I let Solas remove it last night.”

“You let him take away your vallaslin?” Sylvia asked in wide-eyed horror then started to cry. Falon stared stone faced at Nehn while Asha seemed intrigued. Sionn balled his fists and clenched his teeth. 

Asha, who was ravenous and getting ready for another growth spurt, took a bite of her toast then quizzed, “So are you going to get a different one? Mythal’s are really pretty.”

“No, da’len. I won’t wear vallaslin any longer.” Nehn answered and began to explain the discoveries she had made in the Arbor Wilds and afterwards.

As she spoke, Sionn grew increasingly red faced and furious. Before she could even share what the vallaslin had meant, he slammed his fist on the table and yelled, “This is madness. You’d reject how you were raised after an encounter with a cult that _claims_ to be Elvhen? Living amongst shemlen has addled your mind.”

Sionn’s protests grew so loud that Skyhold’s guards poured into the small room where they were sharing a meal. “No one is in danger. Your presence is not needed,” Nehn told the guards who sheathed their weapons and left the room after eyeballing Sionn warily.

Sionn shamed Nehn for turning her back on everything the Dalish held dear and then concluded by saying, “I could accept that you led a Chantry organization. I could accept your taking a human lover. But this... how could you do this?”

Turning to Sylvia, he said quietly, “Vhenan, we cannot stay here.”

“Sionn, you haven’t even heard Mamae out,” Sylvia protested.

“No. We are Dalish, Sylvia. That should mean _something_ to you,” he railed before storming out.

“Sylvia, I’m so sorry,” Nehn began. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Sylvia hissed. “How could you, Mamae? You didn’t even give me any warning.”

“I didn’t know having the marks removed was a possibility until last night,” Nehn explained.

“And you just did it?” Sylvia asked shocked. “Without even thinking it over or talking to us?”

“Once I knew what the vallaslin meant, I couldn’t stand to have them on me for another minute.” 

“You only have Solas’ word about the vallaslin and our gods, though. He has spent the past year lying about his identity. He hates the Dalish. Why would you believe anything he said?” Falon asked breaking his stony silence.

“It’s more than just what he said. It’s how the sentinels acted. It’s a gut feeling. I _know_ he was being truthful just as I knew he had been misleading me before,” Nehn asserted. Falon ran his hands through his hair in frustration at her response, but he knew that Nehn had an extraordinary ability to read people. He would at least listen to what she had to say.

“You haven’t said what the vallaslin meant, Mamae. Maybe what you’ve done would make more sense if we knew,” Asha noted while stealing a link of sausage off Sionn’s plate.

“Before I tell you, know that you will have the option to remove yours later,” Nehn said to Sylvia. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to do that, though. It’s entirely your decision. One that I will respect either way.”

Sylvia rolled her eyes. “Out with it, Mamae. I’m sure what I’m imagining is much worse than the reality.”

Nehn shook her head. She doubted Sylvia could come up with something more awful than the truth. “The markings were used to glorify the elven gods, but not in the way the Dalish thought. Nobles would put them on their slaves as a show of devotion,” Nehn replied matter-of-factly.

“They were slave brands?” Falon questioned while looking as if he was about to become ill. “The ancient elves _enslaved_ each other?”

“No wonder you had yours taken off,” Asha quipped before asking Sylvia if she planned to eat her eggs. Sylvia pushed her plate across the table but said nothing.

“Sylvia... da’len... are you going to be alright?” Nehn asked.

Sylvia stood, put a protective hand on her belly, and backed away from the table. “You’ve been deceived. Solas has tricked you into losing your faith. He can’t be trusted. He is _harellan_ , Mamae, and you’ve let him steal the symbol of your beliefs.”

“I know it’s a lot to accept. Just promise that you’ll consider what I’ve said,” Nehn begged Sylvia who nodded tearfully before rushing to find Sionn.

Falon walked over to his mother and put a hand on her shoulder. “I believe what you’ve said, but I don’t trust Solas. You shouldn’t either.” He squeezed her shoulder and then left for morning drills.

Asha spoke after downing her third piece of toast, “I’m glad I won’t be getting vallaslin. I hate needles.” She kissed Nehn and bounced out of the room unfazed by the morning’s fireworks.

Sitting alone at the table, Sylvia’s words echoed in Nehn’s ears. _Harellan ... the Nightmare called Solas the same thing. I know what Solas said was true, but Sylvia’s assertion is right as well. Solas is deceitful and manipulative. Why did he tell this to me now? He’s made negative statements about the Dalish and their vallaslin before. He could have told me then. Worry about that later, Nehn. Go learn the spell now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update today, but angst is tough for me to write. Rough waters for a bit. Smooth sailing eventually.


	93. Chapter 93

When Nehn entered Solas’ study, she found him hunched over his desk. He stood straight and smiled widely when she came over. “Inquisitor, I’ve been preparing to teach you the spell,” he said gesticulating to scraps of leather on his desk. Each was freshly marked with simple tattoos.

“Where did you get the blood to make the ink?” Nehn asked while also wondering how Solas knew how to make the mixture. The recipe for creating vallaslin ink was a closely guarded secret within the Dalish community - one shared only with Keepers and Firsts. Seconds weren’t even trusted to learn it. _He probably knows more spells and rituals than I could ever hope to learn. He has been alive for ages after all._

Solas held up his hand which showed a freshly mended wound. “A worthy cause,” he remarked. “Although I hope you master the skill quickly,” he quipped.

Nehn couldn’t remember when she had ever seen Solas so happy. _His secret must have really weighed on him._ “You seem very chipper,” she noted.

“Using the spell reminded me of my youth,” he replied. 

“You freed slaves then?”

“Yes. More importantly, I taught them how to rebel against the forces that bound them,” Solas answered while handing Nehn a piece of parchment where he had outlined the spell.

“I remember your talking to Sera about her Red Jenny’s and organizing an uprising. I can’t imagine you doing that.”

“I was much more impulsive and idealistic then. I sought to change the world,” he answered regretfully.

“Did you? Change the world that is?” Nehn questioned.

“Not how I hoped, but that is irrelevant. I promised to teach you the spell, and I shall,” he redirected.

“I may not have a chance to use it,” Nehn mentioned. “Sylvia and Sionn did not take my revelation well.”

“And that surprises you?” Solas asked with thinly veiled amusement.

Nehn narrowed her eyes. “It isn’t the least bit funny, Solas. Sionn is threatening to leave Skyhold, and Sylvia is devastated. They both think I’m delusional. Perhaps I should have weighed my choice more carefully.”

“Interesting,” Solas commented.

“What is?” Nehn asked with annoyance.

“That you - the champion of honesty - would consider perpetuating a lie to keep the peace,” he said pointedly.

Nehn growled, “Point made. However, considering it and doing it are two very different things. I doubt my decision would have changed.”

“Your rejection of the Well showed how much you value freedom. Few people - especially those trained to be Dalish Keepers - could turn down such a temptation. You truly have an indomitable will,” he stated with a nod and small smirk.

_He is such an arrogant prick. How has he lived this long? You’d think someone would have knifed him by now,_ Nehn thought but simply voiced, “Let’s get to the spell, then.”

The spell was very complex, and Nehn had to channel some of the Mark’s magic when using it. When she questioned why it was necessary to use the Mark, Solas gave an evasive answer about ancient magics differing from those of modern times. Something about his words rang hollow to Nehn, but she had argued enough for the day and didn’t press the issue. _Worry about that later, Nehn._

After several hours, she finally mastered the spell, and the tattoo disappeared from one of the scraps of leather. She was so excited that she squealed and threw her arms around Solas to celebrate her success. When he reluctantly let go of her, Nehn realized that she had sent a mixed message.

“Ir abelas, hahren,” she apologized.

“I wish you weren’t sorry,” he answered.

“Solas...” Nehn said with a hint of warning in her voice.

“I know,” he replied. “It’s for the best.”

“At least I can understand all of your doomed-from-the-start fatalism about our relationship now. I didn’t realize you meant that I’d be long dead before you got your next wrinkle,” Nehn laughed. Solas did not join her. “Too soon?” she teased while elbowing him playfully. “So somber. You’re an immortal - a little laughter won’t kill you, Solas.” 

“If there were a way to become immortal, would you seek it?” he asked cautiously.

“Every Elvhen I’ve met is grim and jaded. You don’t exactly present a compelling case for living forever. I don’t want to just _endure_ life. I want to _enjoy_ it. If the price for that is dying, then I’m willing to pay,” Nehn responded.

“And in this, your wisdom surprises me yet again,” Solas remarked. 

“What will you do when we defeat Corypheus? I guess you won’t be staying, although you would be welcome,” Nehn quizzed.

“What makes you think that?” Solas asked with knitted brows.

“Abelas didn’t stay at Mythal’s Temple when his duty ended. You’ll want to return to your people... to the place you mentioned he could go. Don’t you have family or friends there? Or someone you need to report to? Aren’t you worried that you’ll be infected by whatever makes us _shemlen_? Oh gods, has helping the Inquisition cost you your immortality?” Nehn asked in rapid-fire succession.

“So many questions...” Solas said wearily.

“And you aren’t going to answer them,” Nehn sighed. “Well, I’d rather have silence than lies. Just know that I’m here if you ever need me.”

Solas’ face softened. “That is a greater comfort than you realize.”

“Well, it’s a limited time offer. You’ve got about fifty years to cash in,” Nehn giggled. “Speaking of mortality,” Nehn segued, “when do you think we’ll hear from the Arbor Wilds? I’m worried about our people.”

“You needn’t be,” a melodic voice chimed from the doorway behind them.

“Leliana!” Nehn exclaimed and raced toward her spymaster. She grabbed the red-haired bard and hugged her tightly. Leliana initially bristled but then settled into a warm embrace.

“I think you’re as relieved to see me as I am you,” Leliana commented. “We hoped that you’d returned to Skyhold when you disappeared from the Wilds. Cullen is particularly anxious to hear from you.”

“Is he here?” Nehn asked excitedly. Solas looked deflated at Nehn’s mention of Cullen, but only Leliana noticed the change in his demeanor.

“No, he is still with our soldiers. When Corypheus quit the field abruptly and we discovered the broken eluvian, I rode to Briala’s nearest eluvian with some of my scouts to come here. I hope you’ve sent ravens to the Wilds,” Leliana remarked.

“Yes, I sent duplicate coded messages as soon as we arrived.”

Leliana smiled, “I’ve trained you well. We should go to the war room to debrief. Would you mind collecting Morrigan?”

_Ten years later and still holding a grudge. I hope to stay on your good side._ “I’d be happy to get her. One thing - you said Corypheus just left?”

“He stormed out of the temple with his dragon and disappeared. His forces became demoralized and disorganized as a result. Our troops had them well in hand when I left,” Leliana reported.

_I’d thank the Creators if I could still believe in them._ “That is wonderful news! When do you think our troops will return?" Nehn asked excitedly.

“Do you care so much about our army’s homecoming, or is it their Commander’s arrival that you anticipate?” Leliana said with a wink. “Cullen planned to have his men return in waves as the injured recover and the Wilds are cleared of enemy agents.”

“Oh,” Nehn said trying vainly to mask her disappointment. She guessed that Cullen would remain in the Wilds until the majority of his men were ready to travel.

“No need to look sad, Inquisitor,” Leliana chided. “Cullen will be here within the week. He is concerned that Corypheus may turn his attention to Skyhold.”

“I agree,” Solas interjected. “You have defeated him at every turn. His next move will be out of desperation and vengeance. If he can’t win the game, he will destroy the board.”

“Have I ever mentioned just how much I loathe him? Why can’t he just die like a good little Tevinter?” Nehn joked then realized something. “Actually, that is a very good question... why doesn’t he die? How does he just regenerate? Do you know anything about that type of magic, Solas?”

“Unfortunately, I do not. Perhaps it is somehow tied to the Blight. We must hope that the Well gives Morrigan some insight, or all may yet be lost,” he answered.

_Ever the optimist._ “We’ll think of something. We always do,” Nehn retorted. _I have to believe we can win. Losing isn’t an option._ “Leliana, I’ll get Morrigan. We have much to discuss.”

“Like your missing tattoo?” Leliana queried while raising an eyebrow.

“That and much, much more,” Nehn replied. _Solas will be lucky to avoid taking an arrow from Leliana’s quiver when she hears he is Elvhen. She’ll be livid that he deceived her so thoroughly. Our spymaster likes secrets but only when she knows them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solas must be kicking himself for not simply admitting to Nehn he was Elvhen back at Adamant. They would still be together even if Nehn would feel awkward about aging while he remains young. That might have worked well for Solas, although I think she will be happier and more fulfilled with Cullen. 
> 
> If Nehn let herself work at the puzzle surrounding his identity rather than procrastinating and avoiding conflict, she could figure out that Solas is an agent/servant of the Dread Wolf. I doubt she could guess that he _is_ Fen'Harel, but he might make a slip that could reveal it. Do you think she'll spend much time thinking about who Solas really is or has he provided enough of a distraction by removing her vallaslin and acting friendly that she won't consider things until too late?


	94. Chapter 94

At their meeting in the war room, Nehn and Morrigan briefed Leliana on their discoveries in the Arbor Wilds. The spymaster was slightly intrigued that ancient elves still lived in Thedas and expressed regret that Nehn’s faith had been so badly shaken by the encounter, but she remained largely detached until Nehn mentioned that Solas was Elvhen like the temple guards. 

After voicing Solas’ secret, Nehn watched as the war council devolved into Leliana’s self-recriminations for failing as a spymaster and Morrigan’s conjectures about why Solas had offered help in the first place. Nehn’s attempts to console Leliana only made the spymaster angrier with herself and her replies to Morrigan only made the witch more suspicious about Solas’ motives. Exhausted by the angst and paranoia that permeated the room, Nehn dismissed the meeting and pressed her hands to her temples. _It’s mid-afternoon, and I already want to crawl into bed. I should have just stayed there this morning. No family arguments, no hours of practicing spells, no endless debates... just pillows, quilts, and Cullen’s coat._

Nehn considered heading to her room for a nap, but she was worried about how things had gone that morning with Sylvia. After grabbing a potion for her headache, she went to the stables to check on her daughter. Sylvia was standing outside one of the horse’s stalls looking worried and irate.

“Something wrong?” Nehn quizzed cautiously.

“I’ve got an idiot for a stablehand,” Sylvia snapped.

_Whew, she’s not angry with me._ “What happened?” Nehn quizzed.

“He let Matilda out to pasture without a grazing muzzle. She gorged herself, and now she’s foundering,” Sylvia answered while gesturing to the fat pony which was stretching its forelimbs forward and trying to settle its weight on its hind legs.

Nehn’s brow wrinkled as she examined the distressed horse. “I’m not an equine expert, but I could try some simple spells.”

“It couldn’t hurt. This isn’t the first time she’s foundered. Dennet will want to put her down. He says the Inquisition needs reliable mounts not pasture ornaments,” Sylvia replied in near tears.

“I’ll try my best, da’len,” Nehn whispered and then kneeled beside the horse. While Sylvia patted the Matilda’s neck and uttered soothing words, Nehn poured magic into the pony’s legs and digestive tract. Eventually, the horse shifted its weight forward, and Sylvia breathed a sigh of relief.

“She’ll probably recover thanks to you,” Sylvia said as she hugged her mother. “I would have hated to lose her. She’s calm and patient even if she is a glutton,” Sylvia added while tousling the pony’s forelock.

“I’m glad I could help,” Nehn answered and then bit her lip before speaking again. “About this morning...”

“Mamae, I don’t want to argue,” Sylvia warned.

“I didn’t come to argue. I came to apologize. I never wanted to upset you or Sionn,” Nehn started.

“Rejecting your heritage isn’t a small thing, Mamae. You can’t just say _I’m sorry_ and expect things to be okay,” Sylvia said angrily.

“I know, da’len, but I’m not rejecting Dalish values...” Nehn began but was interrupted by Lysette’s panicked voice, “Inquisitor, you need to come quickly. It’s Asha...”

“What?” Nehn and Sylvia asked in unison.

“Asha and Kieran were playing in the Chantry courtyard. He took off running, and she followed. They’ve gone through the eluvian,” Lysette said breathlessly after having sprinted across the Keep to reach Nehn. 

“The eluvian? But only Morrigan can activate it. Was she with them?” Nehn asked.

“No, someone else opened the way. Lady Morrigan said for you to come quickly. She’s already gone in after them, but I think she anticipates needing help. She said something about the power required to open the eluvian without her passwords would be immense...” Lysette panted.

“Oh gods!” Nehn exclaimed. “I have to go,” she said to Sylvia.

“Not without me,” Sylvia announced. “If Kieran and Asha are lost, then Ginger can help find them. She knows Asha’s scent and can track her.”

“It won’t be safe,” Nehn said while shaking her head.

“Ginger is as good as two warriors. Please, Mamae. Asha is my sister...” Sylvia begged.

“Ginger can come, but you will wait outside. I won’t risk losing two daughters,” Nehn said in a tone that brooked no disagreement.

Sylvia reluctantly agreed with Nehn who then Fade Stepped across the main courtyard while Ginger raced after her. Sylvia dropped to her knees and prayed that Mythal would protect her sister and mother. Little did she know who they would be meeting.

**************************

While her friends and family worried for her safety, Asha was delighted to be in the presence of Asha Bellanar, the witch otherwise known as Flemeth. The old sorceress radiated power and charisma as she welcomed her grandson Kieran and Asha to her side. 

“You’ve brought a friend,” Flemeth commented to Kieran. 

Kieran merely nodded while Asha stepped forward boldly. “You’re Asha Bellanar. We’ve got the same first name.”

“Are you always so brave, little one?” Flemeth questioned while her yellow eyes fixed solidly on the small mage.

“Not always. But I don’t need to be scared of you - at least not right now,” Asha answered.

Flemeth threw her head back and roared. “Perceptive and honest. Clearly you are your mother’s child. Tell me, does she know where you are?”

“No, but I bet I get grounded when she finds me,” Asha quipped which caused Flemeth to chuckle. Asha tilted her head to the side and asked how Flemeth knew her mother.

“I know a great number of things, little one. In time, you’ll learn that the _how_ of something isn’t nearly as important as the _why,_ ” Flemeth said dismissively before turning her attentions to Kieran. As they conversed, a glowing blue light connected them, and neither seemed to notice Asha’s presence any longer.

Asha sat down on a nearby stony outcropping and surveyed the area around her. _Mamae would hate this place. It’s creepy and damp. You’d think Asha Bellanar would have chosen somewhere cheerier to meet Kieran. Well... the stories always said she was a bit crazy. I guess this is proof._

Asha’s musings were interrupted by a dog’s bark. Ginger bounded down the rocky pathway and headed straight for her. After howling a hello, Ginger licked Asha’s face and wagged her bobbed tail enthusiastically.

“Is that your dog?” Flemeth asked with annoyance.

“My sister’s. I don’t know how she got here. Where are we anyway?” Asha queried.

“You don’t know? I suppose you wouldn’t...” Flemeth responded more to herself than to Asha. “In any event, we’ll have more company soon.” Just as Flemeth stopped speaking, Nehn and Morrigan appeared over the ridge.

The alarm that registered on Morrigan’s face when she saw Flemeth made Asha truly nervous for the first time since she stepped through the eluvian. _Kieran’s mamae fought an archdemon, but she’s scared of Flemeth,_ Asha thought as she quietly scooted away from the old witch.

“Mother,” Morrigan snarled. Nehn glanced between the old witch before her and the raven haired apostate beside her. Both had the same unnerving yellow eyes.

Nehn struggled to maintain her composure seeing her daughter in the Fade near Asha Bellanar. The stories about the Witch of the Wilds varied but all marked her as powerful and vengeful. Reflexively, Nehn muttered a prayer to Mythal for protection, and an amused grin spread over Flemeth’s face.

“So your faith hasn’t left you entirely,” Flemeth commented. “Unquestioned beliefs are hardly worth having - don’t you think?”

Nehn wrinkled her forehead in confusion but didn’t reply.

“Ah, I keep forgetting. You don’t know... couldn’t know...” Flemeth said thoughtfully.

“Know what?” Asha asked, and Nehn froze. _Don’t draw her attention to you, Asha._

“Who I am. _What_ I am,” Flemeth answered with a coy smile. “Your mother is worried about you child. Go to her,” she directed.

Nehn held out her arms, but Asha didn’t budge. “What about Kieran? Lady Morrigan looks worried, too,” Asha asked impertinently. Nehn nearly fainted and inwardly cursed her daughter’s moxie. _Mythal’s mercy, that child needs to learn when to keep her mouth shut._

“She needn’t be. I merely wanted to meet my grandson,” Flemeth answered cagily. “Now do as you’re told, Asha. Go to your mother before she does something foolish.” 

Nehn, who had been considering attacking Flemeth, gasped which made the aged sorceress smile malevolently. Seeing the change in Flemeth’s demeanor, Asha complied and rushed to her mother’s side. “I wasn’t scared of her at first, but I am now,” Asha whispered to her mother, who nodded without taking her eyes off Flemeth. 

Nehn stayed absolutely still as she listened to Morrigan confront her mother for luring Kieran into the Fade. _Distrust doesn’t go far enough to describe Morrigan’s feelings toward Flemeth. What makes her hate her so?_ Nehn wondered. Nehn didn’t have to wait long for an explanation as Morrigan turned to her and asserted that Flemeth prolonged her life by possessing the bodies of her daughters.

“That is messed up,” Asha snarked, and Nehn shushed her by clapping a hand over Asha’s mouth. Rather than being angry or offended, Flemeth appeared entertained by the interplay. 

“I see we have headstrong daughters in common, Inquisitor,” Flemeth said wryly. “Make sure to tell me if you ever figure out how to manage yours. I never know quite what to do with mine.”

“Give me my son, Mother,” Morrigan demanded and began to cast a spell. Her hands glowed and returned to her side as Flemeth ordered her to stand down. “What have you done to me?” Morrigan wailed as she struggled to move her arms.

“I’ve done nothing. You drank from the well of your own volition,” Flemeth contended.

Morrigan gasped and the said, “You... are Mythal.” While Nehn fought the urge to run, Flemeth smiled and pushed Kieran toward his mother. Morrigan embraced Kieran tightly and then stared at Flemeth bewildered while Kieran apologized for running off.

“Wait ... you’re Mythal?” Asha asked incredulously. “But you aren’t even an elf.”

“For god’s sake, shut up!” Nehn hissed through her teeth.

“Surprising isn’t it, little one?” Flemeth cackled. Nehn swallowed hard and protectively wrapped an arm around Asha. 

“It’s just I thought...” Asha began.

“Preconceptions often mask the truth, little one,” Flemeth said to Asha kindly and then fixed her gaze on Nehn. “Have you stood in the presence of a god before? Would you know if you had?” 

“I don’t think so... I don’t know, though. You aren’t quite what I expected,” Nehn replied hesitantly.

“A response that shows both humility and wisdom. Few will so readily admit the limits of their knowledge. You do the People proud,” Flemeth praised. _She’s as judgmental as Solas,_ Nehn noted with irritation.

“I do not understand. How can you be Mythal?” Morrigan questioned while shaking her head.

“Once I was but a woman crying out in the lonely darkness for justice, and she came to me - a wisp of an ancient being. And she granted me all I wanted and more. I have carried Mythal through the ages ever since. But what was Mythal? A legend given name and called a god - or something more? Truth is not the end but a beginning,” Flemeth replied.

_Oh for fuck’s sake, it’s like she’s quoting Solas. Is there some sort of ancient elf primer on being nebulous and evasive?_ Nehn wondered as she clenched her teeth.

“If you’ve carried Mythal, why didn’t you reveal yourself - to the elves to everyone?” Nehn asked as her voice shook with emotion.

“I knew the hearts of men even before Mythal came to me. It is why she came to me. They do not want the truth, and I... I am but a shadow lingering in the sun,” Mythal said regretfully.

_Another non-answer... No wonder ancient elves were immortal. It took them forever to speak the truth._

“But why did she come to you?” Morrigan queried.

_Good luck getting a response that makes any sense,_ Nehn thought jadedly. To her surprise, Flemeth was more forthcoming.

“She came for a reckoning that would shake the very heavens. Things happened that were never meant to happen,” Flemeth’s face showed sorrow and anger as her voice built into a crescendo. “She was betrayed as I was betrayed as the world was betrayed. Mythal crawled and clawed her way through the ages to me. And I will see her avenged!”

_Ah betrayal... I know that feeling well. To be angry millennia later, though? Shouldn’t you just forgive and move on at some point? For a god, you’re awfully immature. I guess Solas’ descriptions of the gods’ childishness was accurate. It’s as if Fen’Harel gave them all a time out. I probably would have done the same thing if given the chance,_ Nehn thought and snickered. 

Everyone’s eyes focused on Nehn who quickly covered for her blunder. “Sorry, I laugh when I get nervous.”

“So what is it you want, Mother?” Morrigan probed.

“One thing and one thing only,” Flemeth answered while smiling at her grandson.

“You can’t have Kieran,” Asha shouted. “He’s my best friend.”

_Was that my daughter arguing with a god? Tell me that wasn’t my daughter..._ Nehn thought as she closed her eyes and tried to take a cleansing breath.

“I have to go now,” Kieran said to Morrigan.

“No!” Asha and Morrigan declared.

Nehn grabbed Asha and clapped a hand over her mouth before she could do something foolish like offering herself in Kieran’s stead. Morrigan began to press forcefully for Kieran’s release while Flemeth hinted at him holding something powerful that she wanted.

“I will not let you use him!” Morrigan screamed.

“Have you not used him? Was that not your purpose? The reason you agreed to his creation?” Flemeth questioned evenly.

“That was then. Now... he is my son,” Morrigan replied as her eyes brimmed with tears.

Nehn’s grip on Asha had eased enough that the little mage wiggled free and quizzed, “Is there something different about Kieran?”

Nehn smacked her forehead and sighed loudly. _Seriously, Asha? Do you have a death wish?_

“I am not the only one carrying the soul of a being long thought lost,” Flemeth growled.

_Kieran is awfully well-mannered for an abomination - not that I’ve met many. I’m glad Cullen isn’t here to hear that Asha has been having playdates with someone harboring two souls. He’d probably go all templar and get us all killed._

“He is more than that, Mother,” Morrigan declared.

“As am I, but do you hear me complain? Our destinies are not so easily avoided, dear girl,” Flemeth snapped.

After more wrangling over Kieran’s fate, Flemeth finally made her proposal. She would leave Morrigan alone only if Kieran was allowed to stay with her. Otherwise, Flemeth promised to hound Morrigan. “I will have my due,” the old witch threatened.

Morrigan didn’t flinch and instead offered herself to Flemeth in exchange for Kieran’s freedom. “I am many things, but I will not be the mother you were to me,” she said hatefully. Flemeth looked deeply hurt by her daughter’s words and faced Kieran. The two joined hands and a blue glowing light left Kieran’s chest and entered Flemeth’s.

“No more dreams?” Kieran asked hopefully.

“No more dreams,” Flemeth stated emphatically as she gestured for him to return to Morrigan. “A soul is not forced upon the unwilling. You were never in danger from me. Listen to the voices. They will teach you as I never did,” Flemeth told Morrigan before walking away.

“Wait!” Morrigan cried out desperately, but her mother did not return.

As they walked back to the eluvian, Asha chattered to Nehn. “Sionn is going to have a halla when he hears that Mythal took up residence in a human. He can’t complain about living amongst them when one of our gods lives in one - can he?”

“I don’t know,” Nehn responded and thought how very true that statement was. _I honestly don’t know anything any more._


	95. Chapter 95

Nehn was completely dazed after she exited the eluvian. She stumbled to the chantry courtyard and sat on a bench staring straight ahead while Asha excitedly recounted to Sylvia what had happened. Halfway through Asha’s tale, Sylvia plopped down beside Nehn and hugged her mother tightly. Nehn returned Sylvia’s embrace and began to sob while Asha rolled her eyes.

“I haven’t even gotten to the best part,” Asha wailed trying to regain Sylvia’s attention.

“Tell me later,” Sylvia replied with exasperation as she stroked Nehn’s hair.

“Mamae, are you going to be alright?” Sylvia questioned.

Nehn shook her head, “I don’t even know which way is up any more. Speaking to Mythal, I found myself agreeing with Fen’Harel’s choice to seal the god’s away. Is there anything that I believed that was true?”

“Of course there is,” Asha said impatiently. She wanted to tell Sylvia about Kieran’s two souls not listen to her mother’s angst. “You believe that honesty, freedom, and people matter. They still do. Now back to my story...”

Nehn started laughing. Asha had the truth of it. There was no sense in wallowing in a spiritual morass when there were real people who needed her to be strong. Nehn sat up straighter, wiped her eyes, and let out a long sigh. “Finish your story, da’len,” Nehn directed to Asha's great joy.

Once Asha completed her tale, Sylvia rubbed her belly thoughtfully and then spoke to Nehn, “Sionn is not going to take this well. Let me talk to him first.”

“Of course,” Nehn agreed. “Are you okay?”

“It’s all so unbelievable. How have you accomplished everything you have if the gods weren’t guiding you, Mamae? How can this all be an accident?” Sylvia answered numbly.

“Mythal made it sound like Mamae had already met a god,” Asha remarked. “Maybe one _has_ helped her.”

“Perhaps Cullen and Cassandra are right about the Maker. I just don’t know...” Nehn said while pressing her hands against her temples. Her headache had returned with a vengeance.

“I know you’re tempted to go talk to Solas. Get some sleep first,” Sylvia advised. “Take a sleeping draught if you have to but don’t speak to him while your emotions are so raw. Promise me.”

“I promise,” Nehn echoed. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll head to my room now. Today can’t be over quickly enough. Tomorrow has to be better - right?”

As she unlocked the door to her room, Nehn doubted she’d need a sleeping potion that night. She couldn’t remember a time she had felt so exhausted since Asha was a newborn. Still she had work to do, and it seemed too early to climb into bed. After a hot bath, Nehn curled up in front of her fireplace to answer some Inquisition correspondence. She woke up the next morning in front of the cold embers still gripping her quill pen and sore from having slept on the floor. After casting a healing spell into her sore joints, Nehn stretched and yawned. Her head felt much clearer although she was missing Cullen acutely. 

_If he rides hard, Cullen can make it to Skyhold in three or four days, but he’ll have to get things lined out with his soldiers first. So maybe six more days until he’s home,_ Nehn calculated and then groaned.

Nehn went into her closet and stared at her clothes. _Oh great, an indecisive day. How am I supposed to manage leading the Inquisition if I can’t decide what to wear?_ Nehn finally grabbed her beige leathers. _Practical, comfortable, and no need to match accessories._ After wrapping her hair into a neat bun, Nehn paused in front of her mirror to gawk at her bare face. _It’s odd not having my vallaslin. I hope Cullen wasn’t too attached to how I looked before._ Shrugging off that concern, Nehn headed to breakfast. 

Asha was the only person at the table, and she was levitating a piece of bacon just out of Ginger’s reach. Ginger was standing on her back legs trying to grab the tasty treat while Asha giggled. “No magic at mealtime,” Nehn ordered, and the slice of bacon wobbled mid-air and then dropped in front of the mabari who snarfed it enthusiastically. “Where is everyone?” Nehn asked.

“Falon had to go to the armory. He said he’d be back soon. Sionn and Sylvia are still in their room. They’re either arguing or making up. That’s all they do lately,” Asha said as she spread jam on her toast.

“Do you know if she talked to him about what happened in the eluvian?"

“I got to tell him most of the story,” Asha commented and then took a bite of her toast. After chewing thoughtfully, she added, “He didn’t really have much to say. I think it kind of melted his brain - especially the part where Mythal praised you for being a good example to the People."

 _He wouldn’t be the only one with that reaction. I’m still feeling hazy myself._ “That’s understandable. How about your brother?”

“Falon lectured me about not running off. He can be such a grump,” Asha pouted.

“So our meeting Mythal didn’t faze him?” Nehn quizzed.

“Not really. He said weird stuff happens to you all the time. Varric and Falon have some sort of running bet on how many days you can go without something supernatural happening. Our adventure yesterday will net him enough coin to buy a new bow, so he was pretty happy about that part.”

“That’s good I guess,” Nehn replied hesitantly. _I’m glad someone is profiting from my beliefs being upended. It might as well be Falon._ “Do you know why he needed to go to the armory?”

“Something about all able bodied people being called up whatever that means...” Asha said as she reached across the table for more bacon.

“Oh gods!” Nehn exclaimed. 

“Is that a big deal?” Asha asked.

“It means your brother has been asked to fight, Asha,” Nehn answered. _How many people did we lose in the Wilds? What didn’t Leliana tell me? Cullen must be sure that Skyhold is going to be attacked._

“I thought you made a deal with Cullen that Falon was only a runner and assistant medic,” Asha said while furrowing her brow.

“I did, but in extraordinary circumstances, everyone who is able can be compelled to take up arms."

“That doesn’t sound good. I thought you won in the Arbor Wilds,” Asha remarked as she stared at her toast.

 _So did I._ “Cullen is probably just being cautious. He wouldn’t want us to be caught off guard like we were in Haven,” Nehn explained. _At least, I hope that’s it. I wish he was here to tell me what he’s thinking._

Falon came in the room wearing medium armor with his bow on his back, and Nehn clapped her hands over her mouth and fought the urge to cry.

“Mamae, it’s just a precaution. The officers want everyone outfitted in case of an attack. Skyhold is well situated. We can see for miles in all directions. No army can sneak up on us,” Falon reassured.

 _An army couldn’t easily assault us, but a dragon could,_ Nehn thought but bit her lip rather than voicing her concern.

“Just promise me you won’t take any unnecessary risks,” Nehn pleaded.

“I could say the same to you,” Falon joked and kissed Nehn on the cheek. “It’ll be fine, Mamae. I’ll be back to delivering letters and changing bandages before you know it.”

 _You’d better be. I doubt I sleep at all until you are._ “So Asha tells me you are planning to buy a new bow...”

Falon’s eyes lit up. He loved talking about weaponry. “It’s made of ironwood and has armor penetrating and fire enchantments. It’s completely badass.”

“Language,” Nehn hissed while glancing at Asha.

“Sorry, Mamae. It’s _epic_ ,” Falon corrected.

“And you need an armor penetrating, fire enchanted bow for target practice?” Nehn queried skeptically.

“I won’t _always_ be a runner, Mamae. In a little over a year, I’ll be old enough to be a scout,” Falon pointed out.

“Don’t remind me,” Nehn said wearily. _This war had better be over by then, or I’m certain to lose my mind entirely._

“Speaking of my duties as a runner...” Falon said as he reached into the pouch on his belt. “A courier came through the eluvian early this morning with orders for Skyhold and this letter for you.”

When Nehn saw Cullen’s seal on the letter, she grabbed for the parchment. Falon, who was quite a bit taller than Nehn, held it just out of her reach. “You’d think this was from someone important with the way you’re acting,” he teased before handing the missive over. Nehn narrowed her eyes and stuck out her tongue before eagerly breaking the seal.

Nehn smiled when she saw Cullen’s blocky script on the page. The letter was brief but answered most of Nehn’s concerns. It read:

_Inquisitor,_

_Received your message. Will return to Skyhold post haste. Losses in the Wilds have been light, but our forces will be here securing the area for some time. Have sent instructions to outfit able-bodied civilians for battle as a PRECAUTION._ Cullen had bolded and underlined the word “precaution.” Nehn snickered knowing Cullen anticipated her having a hissy fit about Falon getting called up. She continued reading.

 _Please exercise caution in your activities. You can get into trouble without even trying._ Nehn laughed out loud thinking how Cullen would react to her third trip into the Fade the day before. “I swear I’m trying to stay out of trouble. It finds me,” Nehn said to the letter as if Cullen were there.

_Be safe and remember you are loved,_

_Commander Cullen Rutherford_

Nehn reread the letter and then folded it carefully. _Fenedhis, I miss that man._ After picking at her breakfast and casting a healing spell for a burgeoning headache, Nehn waited for Sylvia and Sionn to come to the table. When they finally emerged from their room, they were cuddled close together and whispering to each other.

 _Well at least they’re not arguing..._ Nehn observed. She nodded to them as they approached. Sylvia giggled as Sionn pulled her chair out for her.

“You slept well?” Nehn asked.

“We didn’t get much sleep, but we worked out a lot of things,” Sylvia said with a wink toward Sionn who looked at her adoringly.

 _They’re so cute it's nauseating at times._ “I’m glad to hear it. Asha ate the last of the toast. I could send for more,” Nehn offered.

“No need. We’ll have to leave for work soon,” Sionn replied. “About the things I said yesterday...” he began.

Nehn held up her hand. “Water under the bridge, Sionn.”

Sionn let out a sigh of relief while Sylvia looked at Nehn appreciatively . “Thank you, Mamae,” she whispered. Nehn patted her arm.

“Even if I have my doubts about Sylaise being a god, I still follow the Vir’Atishan. Offering forgiveness is much easier than carrying a grudge,” Nehn said while smiling at Sionn. “Will you be staying at Skyhold then?”

“At least until the baby is a few months old,” Sylvia replied. “Many of the Inquisition’s city elves don’t want to return to alienages when the war ends. Even some of the Dalish are considering staying. There’s talk of building an elven settlement in the valley below Skyhold - something like the Dales once were. We might join them. Halla keepers and craftsmen are always needed.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Nehn enthused.

“Much better than sticking your head in the sand and joining a traditionalist clan,” Asha snarked, and Nehn kicked her under the table. “Well, it is,” Asha emphasized.

“I have to agree with Asha,” Falon smirked. “I’m glad you’ll be around, Sis. I might even see if the settlement needs hunters. Mamae isn’t particularly keen on the idea of me becoming a scout, you know.”

“And I’ll be stuck up here in this stinky castle learning spells until I’m old and boring,” Asha said with a long face.

“I’m not sticking around for another _Mages have it harder than anyone else_ diatribe,” Falon announced before grabbing a piece of bacon and heading for the door.

“That’s our cue as well,” Sylvia said as she took Sionn’s hand and pulled him toward the exit.

“Mundanes...” Asha seethed while Nehn stifled a laugh.

“As much as I’d love to commiserate, da'len, I’ve got matters to attend,” Nehn said as she excused herself. _Like speaking with a certain ancient elf._


	96. Chapter 96

Nehn leaned against the scaffolding that Solas used to reach the higher portions of his murals and watched as he carefully mixed his paints. “So I met Mythal yesterday...” Nehn announced. Solas stopped fiddling with his tinctures and turned toward the Inquisitor.

“Truly? That is unexpected,” Solas remarked.

_And that’s the understatement of the century._ “She linked the eluvian directly to the Fade and then called Kieran to her,” Nehn continued.

“Morrigan’s son?” Solas asked with confusion.

“Yes - and her grandson... or Asha Bellanar’s... I’m not sure how that works when someone is an abomination,” Nehn replied while scrunching her forehead.

“Ah... that makes sense,” Solas said to himself.

“It does?” 

“Yes. Flemeth’s involvement with the Hero of Fereldan and Kirkwall’s Champion seemed odd to me, but if she harbors Mythal... The All Mother always did enjoy giving history a nudge,” Solas smirked.

“You speak as if you _knew_ Mythal,” Nehn said skeptically.

“In the time of Arlathan, the gods were no more separate from the People than the kings and queens of today,” Solas replied. “I watched the intrigue and machinations of their courts then much like I did at the Winter Palace with you.”

_Were you there as a servant, a guest, or an active participant though?_ Nehn wondered. “So your observations about the gods were based on first-hand experience not just stories you were told.”

“Yes, but they are still only my opinions.” A sly smile formed on his face as Solas asked, “I’m curious. What was _your_ opinion of Mythal?” 

_That she’s several cards shy of a full deck._ Nehn said to herself but answered aloud with more circumspection. “She wasn’t at all what I imagined. I thought she would be compassionate instead she was terrifying.”

“The oldest lore would say that she was both and neither,” Solas noted. “She was the mother - protective and fierce. Surely you understand that duality - or have I misjudged some of our interactions that involved your children?”

_I’ll show you terrifying if you ever teach Asha another dangerous spell,_ Nehn thought as she grasped Solas’ meaning. “In any event, her daughter and grandson were right before her, and she was more concerned with vengeance and power.”

“Mythal has many children, da’len. Would you have her play favorites?” Solas questioned.

“No, but I would also expect that she wouldn’t treat any of them like pawns. She got what she wanted in the end, so I guess she was content.”

“And what was that?” Solas asked with more interest than he’d shown previously.

“Kieran’s body held two souls. From his age and parentage, I can only guess one may have belonged to the corrupted old god that led the Fifth Blight,” Nehn responded. “Flemeth claimed she wanted to protect what once was and had raised Morrigan to do the same. It still felt like a power grab to me.”

“Perhaps it is both. Things are rarely black and white,” Solas commented.

Nehn sighed. _I’m so tired of riddles and aphorisms._ “I don’t know how you do it,” she said with frustration.

“What is that, da’len?”

“Speak without revealing anything. It’s exhausting talking to you. What’s even more unbelievable is that I continue to ask you questions and seek your guidance. Am I a hopeless optimist or a complete fool?”

“You are neither. Like Cassandra, you seek Truth, but you think it is something tangible when it is much more nebulous. As a mage, you should grasp how thoughts can alter our reality. You can draw from the Fade and bend this world to your will yet you still search for concrete answers to your questions. There are none.”

“Is there anything you believe in, Solas?”

“Cause and effect. That wisdom is its own reward, and the inherent right of all free willed people to exist,” he replied without hesitation.

“But not the gods or their teachings,” Nehn surmised.

“Even you have come to doubt their divinity,” Solas replied cagily.

“Their divinity but not their insights or power. I still believe the Vir’Atishan is an honorable path to follow for instance.”

“Your actions -not adherance to a philosophy- determine whether the path you walk is honorable,” Solas said emphatically. Nehn thumped her head against the wood scaffolding in response.

“I give. I’ll never see behind that mask you wear,” Nehn said with resignation.

“You’ve seen far more than most,” Solas quipped, and from the look on his face, Nehn was unsure if he was referring to his true self or simply his body. _At least he was an incredible lover, even if he is the most infuriating man I’ve ever known._

“Did Mythal offer any insight into defeating Corypheus?” Solas asked changing the subject.

“She instructed the voices of the well to teach Morrigan, so I’m hopeful. I haven’t followed up with Morrigan yet. She was pretty shaken.”

“I can imagine. Morrigan was quite confident in her knowledge and abilities. Yesterday’s revelations must have come as a shock,” Solas noted with satisfaction.

_You’re sorry you weren’t there to watch her reaction. There’s no love lost between the two of you._ “I think Morrigan wishes I had been the one to drink from the well now that she knows she’ll be forever bound to her mother’s will.”

“I’m sure she does. The wisdom you showed in rejecting the well was ... refreshing.”

“Well, even a blind squirrel occasionally finds a nut,” Nehn replied with self-deprecation.

“You are not blind. You are one of the most perceptive people I’ve ever known,” Solas corrected.

_And I still can’t make sense of you. Maybe someday I’ll figure you out, Solas. It won’t be for lack of trying._ “I wish you trusted me enough to speak plainly to me. I don’t have millennia to puzzle out your meaning.”

“I have been as open with you as anyone in recent memory, Inquisitor.”

_The sad thing is I know you’re telling me the truth about that. You must be so lonely, but you refuse to let anyone close._ Nehn felt tears coming to her eyes and cursed her emotions. “At times, I envy your detachment, Solas.”

“I’m not detached. I merely have a different perspective having lived a long time and seen much. I never felt more connected to this world, though, than when I was with you,” he replied while caressing her cheek. “But all things -especially the good ones- come to an end,” he said firmly while dropping his hand.

“It didn’t have to end. You could have told me back at Adamant. I would have understood,” Nehn said surprised at the intensity of her emotions.

“You would have tried, vhenan,” Solas said gently before returning to mixing his paints.

His words tore at Nehn’s heart, and she let out a shuddering breath before turning to leave. Solas stopped what he was doing and spoke softly, “Wisdom warned me that I would be forced to choose between love and duty were we to become involved. That was the choice I made at Adamant. What we had was real. It simply couldn’t last.”

Nehn couldn’t speak at first, but finally said, “Thank you for letting me go.”

“Ma nuvenin, da’len,” Solas answered with a sad smile. _I will always wonder if I made the right decision._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Wipes away some tears and blows her nose.* Whew- that was a tough chapter to write. As much as he is an ass, I have a gigantic soft spot for Solas. Now Nehn has some resolution with him at least even if she doesn't know his full story.
> 
> As far as the rest of the story, there isn't much left if I stick to in game content. I'm torn how far to continue past the canon storyline as I keep thinking an expansion DLC might come out that deals with Solas and his plans. I like tinkering with canon (obviously) but I'd hate to completely veer off course. Thoughts? Do you want more Nehn and Cullen post-Corypheus' defeat? Or should the story stop with them gazing off the balcony together?


	97. Chapter 97

Nehn left Solas’ study feeling completely drained and leaned against Varric’s table in the great hall as she tried to collect herself. _There are dozens of eyes on you, Nehn. You’ve got to hold it together,_ she reminded herself as she subtly cast a calming aura.

“Hey, Boss, how’s it going?’ Bull questioned nonchalantly across the room.

Nehn’s melancholy from her conversation with Solas instantly disappeared when she saw Bull and Dorian. She fade stepped across the hall and practically jumped into Bull’s arms.

“You’re going to give him an even bigger head welcoming him like that,” Dorian huffed. “Shouldn’t you be more excited to see your best friend?”

“I’m thrilled to see you both,” Nehn exclaimed then gave Dorian a kiss on the cheek and an enthusiastic embrace. “How did you get here so quickly?”

“We used the eluvians,” Bull answered. “Dosed up on regenerative potions and dove in. Cullen wanted us to get back to Skyhold fast. He doesn’t like the idea of you being here without much back up.”

“He didn’t come with you - did he?” Nehn asked in a panic recalling the awful lyrium withdrawals Cullen suffered after entering an eluvian before.

“No, he’s traveling here the old fashioned way. Sounded like he didn’t plan on stopping any longer than it took to change horses, though,” Bull remarked. “You’d think he missed you or something,” he teased while nudging Nehn with an elbow. 

“Where’s everyone else?” Nehn quizzed.

“Cole, Cassandra, and Varric are in the courtyard talking to Morrigan. Sera flat out refused to use the _demon tunnels_ as she called them. She’s an elf for Andraste’s sake. The eluvian’s environment doesn’t even phase her,” Dorian reported while rolling his eyes. 

“Dorian, you know the eluvians are too _elfy_ to be trusted,” Nehn said with a wink.

Nehn’s winking drew Bull’s attention to her bare face. He cocked his head and examined her closely. “Where’s your tattoo, Boss?”

“That’s a long story,” Nehn answered with sudden weariness. “I’ll fill everyone in when Varric and the others come inside.”

“Well, you look as gorgeous as ever,” Dorian complimented, “Although you have got to stop wearing those hideous leathers. They do nothing for you.”

“I don’t care how they look. They’re _comfortable_ ,” Nehn whined.

“They look just fine to me,” Bull growled lasciviously while admiring Nehn’s rear.

“Only because they’re skin tight. The color washes her out,” Dorian snarked while gesticulating at Nehn’s face. Folding his arms expectantly, he quizzed Nehn, “Why aren’t you wearing that lovely emerald robe I bought you in Val Royeaux?”

“It’s itchy,” Nehn complained.

“Then put on some salve. Looking good is worth a modicum of discomfort,” Dorian chided.

“Well, we can’t all be as flawless as you,” Nehn snipped.

“Of course not, I’m naturally stunning. Look at this symmetry,” Dorian replied while striking a pose which caused Nehn to laugh until she snorted.

“I’ve missed you,” Nehn admitted then added, “But not enough to put on that dress.”

“It’s hopeless,” Dorian commented to Bull. “If Cullen said he liked the color green, she’d wear it without hesitation or complaint. But Maker forbid she follow my advice.”

“There are fringe benefits to keeping Cullen happy that you just don’t offer, Dorian,” Nehn hinted.

“Not to you at least,” Bull said lustily.

“Speaking of those benefits, I don’t have to worry about you randomly sniffing my neck - do I?” Dorian asked. 

“Not if Cullen gets home soon, but if I have to go too much longer I may get desperate. You _are_ my safest option,” Nehn confessed.

“Do I even want to know what you are talking about, Kadan?” Bull quizzed Dorian.

“Our little Nehn gets antsy if she goes too long without smelling a man up close. She once crawled in my lap in the middle of the library to get a good whiff - a rather bizarre behavior that sparked quite a few rumors I might add. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to keep her from cavorting with Solas a little while later,” Dorian explained while Nehn blushed furiously.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Boss. I totally get it. One of the tamassrans used this scented oil in her hair. Made me weak in the knees to catch the smallest hint of it in the breeze ... Mmmmm, she was something,” Bull said reverentially. Dorian was unimpressed and thrummed his fingers impatiently.

Bull’s reverie was interrupted by Cole, Cassandra, and Varric’s appearance in the great hall. “If someone would please round up Fenris and Zevran, we’ll meet in Josie’s office to talk about the events of the past few days,” Nehn directed. “I’ll see if Solas wants to join us.”

Varric wrinkled his forehead. “Why wouldn’t Chuckles want to come?”

Nehn grabbed the back of her neck and winced. Before she could formulate an answer, Cole began to speak. “Ar lasa mala revas ... you are free,” Cole said as if in a trance as he looked at Nehn. “Why would someone choose duty over love?” he questioned innocently. Nehn turned away quickly and pressed her hands to her temples. She hated having her thoughts invaded and exposed.

Nehn took a deep breath and reminded herself that it was Cole’s nature to sense and react to pain before trying to answer his question. She didn’t want to discourage his compassion even if it laid her thoughts bare. “Sometimes you have to choose between what you want and what others need,” Nehn responded kindly. 

“Yes,” Cole agreed thoughtfully. “I will get Fenris and Zevran,” he offered. 

“Thank you, Cole,” Nehn said appreciatively.

To Nehn’s surprise, Solas wanted to be present as she filled in her inner circle. He stood quietly at the back of the room as Nehn talked about the ancient elves that guarded Mythal’s temple, her decision to remove her vallaslin, the encounter with Flemeth/Mythal, and finally Solas being Elvhen.

Cassandra reacted the worst to the revelation about Solas’ identity. She charged at him while howling insults. Nehn instinctively threw up a barrier around Solas which he dispelled with a flick of his wrist. “I do not need your protection,” he told Nehn dismissively as he stared cooly at Cassandra who stood before him shaking with rage and pointing an accusing finger at his chest.

“You... viper,” Cassandra declared. “I should have never trusted you.” 

“Your anger is justified, Seeker. I had little choice but to conceal my heritage, however. There are few Elvhen who remain in this world. They endure only by remaining in the shadows. My silence was as much to protect them as it was to avoid unnecessary questions,” Solas explained.

“Unnecessary?” Cassandra threw back. “No question is unnecessary. Some are just inconvenient. Did you enjoy making fools of us with your statements about what you learned from the Fade? Why did you offer help at all?”

“The Breach threatened everyone,” Solas said evenly. “Corypheus continues to seek apotheosis. Is that not reason enough?”

“The Inquisitor may be satisfied with that response. I am not,” Cassandra proclaimed with narrowed eyes. “I will be watching you ... closely,” she announced threateningly before exiting the room. Zevran followed silently after her.

“Mage...” Fenris seethed tossing the worst epithet he knew toward Solas before leaving Josephine’s office as well.

The remainder of the inner circle said nothing as Solas looked around the room as if to challenge anyone else to comment. Accepting their silence, he departed without further explanation.

“I should probably thank Chuckles for getting me off the top of the Seeker’s list, but I’m worried about you, Sassy. You’ve dealt with an extraordinary amount of weird shit lately,” Varric commented once Solas was gone.

“He’s right, Boss. You and Solas were really close. You gonna be okay?” Bull quizzed.

“I am... or I will be. I’m honestly relieved to know what he was hiding,” Nehn answered.

“What you’ve learned about the elven gods can’t be easy for you to take, though,” Dorian remarked. Nehn squeezed the bridge of her nose tightly and closed her eyes.

“I’ll just have to deal with that later. Defeating Corypheus has to be my first priority. I can’t let myself become distracted,” Nehn said wearily.

“I disagree. Some distraction is definitely in order,” Dorian announced. “You’re going all broody on me. I can’t have you getting frown lines.”

“Too bad we’ve killed all the dragons that are anywhere near Skyhold,” Bull commented. “I know I’d want to tear shit up after the week you’ve had.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much fight left in me, Bull. The best thing I can have right now is a tray of tiny cakes and a long nap. Maybe later we can play some Wicked Grace if you’re up for organizing a game, Varric.”

“Are the Grey Wardens obsessed with darkspawn? Of course, I’ll get a game together, Sassy. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you,” Varric smiled. “I’ve lost a fortune to your son because you persist in being a weirdness magnet.”

**********************  
Nehn spent the next few days trying to tie up loose ends when she wasn’t being purposefully distracted by her friends. Something told her that the final confrontation with Corypheus was brewing, and she felt a sense of urgency to handle business that she had let slide during the buildup to the battle in the Arbor Wilds. She spoke at length to Cassandra and Leliana about her decision to support Leliana’s candidacy for Divine and her hopes that Cassandra could rebuild the Seeker order. Both women accepted her decision with grace, and Nehn thought she picked up on a sense of relief from Cassandra. _She would have been miserable on the Sunburst Throne with all the political maneuvering required of the Divine, and she would have felt honor bound to end her relationship with Zevran. Cass deserves some happiness. Life can’t always be about duty._

She also followed up with Dagna about whether Fenris’ lyrium tattoos could be removed. Although Dagna couldn’t take the tattoos away, she was able to alter them so less lyrium leached into Fenris’ blood. It was a mixed blessing. Fenris’ mood improved to the point he could occasionally be caught smiling, but he began to experience some physical withdrawal symptoms. To Nehn’s elation and Varric’s astonishment, he allowed her to use healing magic to soothe the worst discomfort. Dagna expected that Fenris’ body would eventually adjust and that he wouldn’t experience the awful cravings that Cullen battled because his system would still have lyrium in it albeit at a lower level.

As far as her family life went, Sionn was making an extra effort to reenter his mother-in-law’s good graces. He made congenial small talk at the dinner table and even brought home chocolates for both Sylvia and Nehn. Nehn had forgiven his sharp derision of her, but she enjoyed watching him squirm for the turmoil he had caused Sylvia. 

Nehn hoped he would eventually let go of some of his animosity toward humans but given the friends he lost to bandit attacks on their clan and the racism that still permeated much of Thedas, she doubted that he ever would. She contented herself that Cullen and Sionn had a good relationship, and Sylvia would do her best to quash her husband’s isolationist tendencies. _Most elves feel as he does. He is just more vocal about it,_ Nehn reminded herself. _Even good-natured Garel had little love for shemlen. Nor did I until I got to know some of them better._

Falon opted not to purchase the “epic” bow that he had described to Nehn choosing instead to get a set of reinforced hunting leathers and a bow designed to take down deer rather than soldiers. Nehn was so relieved that she reimbursed him for his expenses and praised his wisdom. Asha seized on the opportunity her brother’s newfound wealth provided and convinced him to get her a new staff as well as several scrolls on restoration magic and counterspells.

Six days after she had her vallaslin removed, Nehn sat in her quiet place in Skyhold’s dungeon watching the sunset and reflecting on the changes the past week had brought. She sensed Cullen’s aura before she heard his footfalls and grinned. “You’ve missed all the excitement,” she commented over her shoulder before standing up and brushing off her dress. (The itchy green one that Dorian insisted that she wear when he joined her for breakfast that morning.)

“So I’ve heard. Varric gave me a quick run down before I tried to find you,” Cullen answered with a smirk.

_Mythal’s mercy, he’s handsome,_ Nehn thought as she felt her legs turn to jelly and her heart speed up. She sauntered over to Cullen and reached up to put her arms around his neck.

“I’m filthy. I haven’t had a chance to bathe or change in nearly a week,” Cullen warned.

“I don’t care,” Nehn replied while flirtatiously fluttering her eyelashes. “I plan to have you out of those grimy clothes in short order, Commander. If you ask nicely, I may even let you use my bathtub - provided I get to join you, of course.”

“Of course,” Cullen agreed before kissing Nehn deeply. “Maker, I’ve missed you. We’ve got to stop this, though.”

“Stop what?” Nehn asked worried about what he meant.

“Being apart,” Cullen clarified before kissing her again. “You get in entirely too much trouble when left to your own devices.” 

“I don’t go looking for trouble. It finds me,” Nehn protested.

“All the more reason for me to stay near. Someone has to keep an eye on you," he said with a cocky grin. "I like your robes by the way. You look especially pretty,” Cullen added suavely.

“Dorian told you to say that,” Nehn said while screwing up her face with annoyance. “If it was a genuine compliment from you, there would be much more stammering or at least some ass grabbing.”

“Guilty as charged,” Cullen said apologetically. “You do look lovely, though,” Cullen added as his hands traveled down to her rear, and he leaned forward to ghost his lips along her neck.

“Now that’s more like it,” she whispered into his ear while knotting her hands in his hair. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like to make love down here?”

“I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m about to find out,” Cullen answered before scooping Nehn into his arms while she giggled happily.


	98. Chapter 98

The first rays of the dawn’s light were coming through cracks in the curtains that covered the windows in Nehn’s room as she stretched languidly beside Cullen who was laying on his side and watching her struggle to wake up.

“Josephine meant for me never to sleep in. Who puts windows on three out of four walls of a bedroom - especially ones facing east?” Nehn complained as she pulled a pillow over her face.

“In her defense, she didn’t design the room. She merely chose its purpose. Besides you’re usually an early riser not a lay-abed,” he said with a devilish smirk.

Nehn peeked out from beneath her pillow and said, “I barely slept this past week. Shouldn’t you be tired, too? You couldn’t have gotten much rest recently.”

“If I get a few hours here and there, I’m good to go,” Cullen answered in a voice that Nehn found to be annoyingly chipper for the hour.

“Curse you and your low sleep requirement. I’m going to be dragging all day,” Nehn groaned.

Cullen pressed his forehead to hers. “If you’re that tired, I can run interference for you while you grab a little more shut eye.”

“And deal with Leliana’s commentary and arched eyebrows? No, thank you. I’ll just drink an extra cup of coffee,” Nehn said before rubbing her eyes and yawning.

Cullen gently traced where Nehn’s vallaslin had been with his finger. “I miss your tattoo, but I never noticed your freckles before. They’re adorable.”

“I’d have thought you’d be glad to see the evidence of my heresy removed,” Nehn bristled.

“Nehn, I never felt that way about your beliefs. In fact, I’m concerned that you’ve renounced them,” Cullen said as he sat up straight.

“Solas was right. They weren’t gods in the true sense of the word,” Nehn reported sadly as she pushed up on her elbows.

Cullen looked distinctly displeased. “I don’t like how much stock you put in what he says. He’s a liar, Nehn. You know that.”

“He can be deceitful, but he can also be honest,” Nehn protested.

“And you think you can tell when he’s being truthful. Don’t delude yourself,” Cullen snapped.

“I don’t have to just take his word for it. I met Mythal - remember? She was a phenomenally powerful sorceress, but I sensed nothing divine in her and certainly nothing worthy of reverence. She might be someone to fear, but someone to worship? Never,” Nehn said firmly.

“I suppose I shouldn’t argue with someone who met a god face to face and decided not to believe any longer. Most people would have the opposite reaction, though. Meeting a god would confirm their faith.”

“If you met the Maker and he was a manipulative creature of vengeance rather than a benign and loving creator, I doubt you would continue to head to the Chantry chapel to pray,” Nehn replied forcefully.

“I doubt I would either, but I would feel lost. My faith gives me hope and purpose. Yours did the same for you. Where will you find that now?”

“In myself, my family, and my friends. I gave Sylaise credit for choices I made and help my friends and family provided. I’m no more alone now than I’ve ever been. I’m simply choosing to put my faith in people rather than gods,” Nehn explained.

“People make mistakes,” Cullen pointed out.

“And so do gods. Or at least so did the elven gods,” Nehn countered.

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I understand your choice. I hope you’ll understand when I continue to pray for you, though.”

“I’d be upset if you didn’t. Somebody’s got to keep me covered just in case I’m wrong about the Maker,” Nehn said with a crooked grin. “Besides you look incredibly sexy when you pray. I can almost believe the Chant when it comes from your lips.”

“When have you heard me pray?” Cullen asked with a wrinkled brow. 

“The chantry in Haven was small, and Andraste’s statue was out in the open. You were there every morning and every night - pouring your heart out to the Maker,” Nehn recounted.

“I never saw you watching me.”

“I stayed in the shadows. I was still terrified of you - convinced you’d make me tranquil for looking at you sideways. But I was also fascinated by you. I had a bit of a crush on you from the moment we met. A handsome human templar? You were the very definition of a Dalish mage’s bad boy.”

“I’ve been called many things, but _bad boy_ is a new twist,” Cullen smirked as he pulled Nehn on top of him. “I might enjoy living up to that.”

“I know I’d love to see you try,” Nehn challenged as she nipped at his neck and arched her back so her breasts would press against his bare chest.

“I suppose a true bad boy won’t be concerned that we’ll be late for our council meeting,” Cullen said hesitantly as his need for punctuality raged against his desire for Nehn.

Sensing that Cullen was about to let duty get in the way of great sex, Nehn quickly upped the ante by pulling off her night dress and shaking her hair loose. “Tell me now that you’d rather go to a meeting,” she teased.

“What meeting?” Cullen asked innocently before running his hand along Nehn’s ticklish spot which gave him the opportunity to seize back control of their love making. As she giggled, he slid out from beneath her and approached her from behind. Nehn leaned back against him and closed her eyes as his hands groped her.

“On your hands and knees, love,” he whispered into her ear which sent shivers through Nehn. Cullen was typically tender and giving as a lover, but he occasionally allowed his tight self control to fray. She loved nothing more than those moments when he gave in to his lust and took what he needed from her. Giving him complete control made her feel the most powerful. She pressed her lips together and happily complied with his every demand.

They arrived at the war council meeting a half hour late. Nehn couldn’t wipe the dopey grin off her face, and Cullen looked ridiculously smug. Josephine pretended not to notice their tardiness and continued to scribble on her clipboard. Morrigan gave them a withering glare while Leliana smiled approvingly. “I’m glad to see that you’ve got the Inquisitor sorted out,” Leliana announced. “She’s been moping around Skyhold since we returned from the Wilds.”

Cullen merely nodded and then gave Nehn a wanton look that caused her to blush violently as he said, “It was my pleasure.”

“Ugh, must we endure this further?” Morrigan groused. “We have more important matters to discuss than whether the Inquisitor’s sexual needs have been fulfilled.”

“No worries there, Morrigan. I’m good for the nonce,” Nehn volunteered and then snickered mischievously.

Rather than his responding with his typical sheepishness about their relationship, Cullen gave Nehn a very confident, very wicked smile before mouthing, “I’m a bad boy,” to her.

Nehn couldn’t control herself and doubled over laughing. “I apologize, Morrigan. I’ll pull myself together in a minute.”

“I should hope so, Inquisitor. Corypheus still threatens Thedas after all,” Morrigan sneered.

_She’s just pissed that she’s stuck following her mother’s commands for the rest of her life. Can’t say that I blame her._ “Have the voices given you any insight in how to take down the magister?” Nehn questioned in the most professional tone she could manage when she noticed Cullen was undressing her with his eyes. _He is absolutely insatiable. How did I get so lucky?_

“I can match the darkspawn magister’s dragon - yes,” Morrigan announced confidently. “As for matching Corypheus ... that is up to you, Inquisitor.”

“We don’t even know where he is,” Nehn pointed out feeling her post-coital good mood slip away.

Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine began to debate how best to locate Corypheus while Nehn felt a wave a nausea followed by searing pain in her marked hand. She screamed and fell to her knees as her mark glowed green and the ground shook. Looking out the window behind Cullen, she saw the sky take an eerie green hue as the Breach reopened.

“Found him,” she said wearily as she pointed to the window. Nehn then took hold of the edge of the war table and pulled herself to her feet. The pain in her left arm was excruciating. _Right back to the beginning... the Mark will kill me if I don’t get that gaping hole in the sky closed. Solas was right again. Corypheus will destroy the world if he can’t rule it._

“Most of our troops are still in the Wilds, Inquisitor,” Cullen reported as his face became lined with worry seeing Nehn’s condition.

“I won’t have time to wait for them. The world won’t have time. I have to face him now,” Nehn said evenly. The same calm resignation to her fate that had settled on her as Haven burned filled her again. “Leliana, see that my team is gathered at the stables within the hour. We’ll travel over land. I don’t want to learn the hard way how the Breach affects the eluvians. Morrigan, do you have someone to stay with Kieran?”

“I will see to him,” Leliana offered. “He is the son of one of my dearest friends after all,” she explained when Morrigan looked at her askance.

“I’m sure my husband would be amused to hear you’ve taken up babysitting. Thank you, Leliana,” Morrigan said with as much grace as she could manage.

Cullen looked as if he wanted to protest Nehn’s choice, but he saw the steely clarity that had settled in her eyes and held his tongue. Pulling off her necklace and handing him her puzzle box, she gave him a determined nod and left to say her goodbyes to her family. Cullen departed shortly after and prostrated himself before the statue of Andraste in the small chapel off Skyhold’s uppermost courtyard.

A little more than a half hour later, Nehn stood in the chapel doorway watching Cullen absorbed in fervent prayer. She had never heard the portion of the Chant he was reciting although its similarity to the Dalish prayers for Falon’Din’s intercession on behalf of the dead were striking. _He’s certain I’m going to die,_ she thought.

“Cullen, if I don’t make it. If I can’t find a way...” she said as she struggled to hold back her own tears.

He hushed her by wrapping her in his arms. “No, I can’t...” he pleaded asking for Nehn not to voice his deepest fear. “Promise me you’ll return,” he said firmly.

“Cullen, I’ll try, but...” Nehn started but he again silenced her.

“Promise,” he directed as his eyes searched her face.

Unable to bear the tension, Nehn resorted to joking, “Is that an order, Commander?”

“I’m only your advisor, but it is my strongest recommendation,” he said with a sad smile as he recognized her need for levity.

“Then I shall do my best to comply,” she answered before burying her face in his mantle as he held her tightly to him.

“I could go with you,” he offered.

“I need to know someone I trust is with my children. Please, Cullen,” she begged.

“As you wish, Inquisitor,” he answered letting her go and saluting her with a hand to his chest.

“I love you,” she said placing her hand on his cheek. 

“I love you, too. Return to me,” he reemphasized.

“Yes, sir,” she said with a mock salute and a silly grin. Then she added more somberly. “Don’t follow me to the stables. Go to my family. Falon especially needs your strength. He is not taking this well having seen the carnage the dragon created at Adamant. I’m afraid he might try to follow us.”

Cullen kissed her one more time and then steeled himself to be the Commander that Skyhold and Nehn’s family needed. “I will see it done, Inquisitor,” he said firmly before walking away without turning back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm leaning toward not giving a play by play of the Corypheus battle. It felt so anti-climactic and stilted. If that would leave you sorely disappointed, let me know. Otherwise, I may breeze past the mechanics of it and concentrate on the consequences.


	99. Chapter 99

As Cullen opened to the door to the Lavellan family quarters, he felt the traces of lyrium in his blood begin to hum. _Asha is having trouble controlling her magic,_ he thought as he bounded the steps two at a time in hopes that he could calm her down before she set something ablaze or iced over part of Skyhold. What he found when he reached the top of the stairs was nothing like what he expected. Asha was very calmly maintaining a force field around her brother that slowed his movements to a snail’s pace. Falon was understandably livid and shouted to Cullen to make Asha release him.

“She sent Lysette off on an errand and then encased me,” he yelled toward Cullen. “She’s not supposed to use magic outside of her lessons.” 

“I have a very good reason,” she said firmly to Falon looking every bit as determined as her mother. “He came out of his room dressed for battle with every intent of stealing a horse and trailing after Mamae,” she explained to Cullen before returning her gaze to Falon and adding, “The last thing she needs is to be distracted during a fight. She’d get killed trying to keep you alive.”

Cullen grabbed the back of his neck and surveyed the standoff. A small portion of him wanted to simply turn on his heel and run. _How am I supposed to handle this mess?_ Saying the first thing that popped into his mind, he asked, “Where’s Sylvia?” _And why isn’t she managing her siblings?_

“She went down to help prepare the horses. I think she wanted a chance to say goodbye to Mamae without Falon screeching nonsense in the background,” Asha said as her eyes blazed with annoyance at her brother whom she had yet to release.

For his part, Falon had stopped fighting Asha’s spell and was sitting on the ground cross-legged and fuming. “You aren’t supposed to hex family,” he mouthed as he folded his arms.

“This isn’t a hex,” Asha responded while rolling her eyes. “It’s a variant of a slowing spell used by Knight Enchanters.”

A grin crossed Cullen’s face. Asha was already adopting the precise nomenclature Circle mages preferred for their incantations. He couldn’t count the number of debates he’d heard during his tenure as a templar over what to call a spell and whether a spell was new or simply a riff on an old one. 

“Recruit Lavellan, collect my lieutenants and have them meet me in my office in a half hour. We need to prepare in case reopening the Breach was a feint. Also instruct the head healer to ready a contingent of people to travel with the Inquisitor’s party. I trust you understand the importance of these duties and will not neglect them,” Cullen said sternly to Falon who nodded solemnly.

“Asha, please let him go,” Cullen said gently having learned long ago to never order a mage - especially an angry one - to do anything.

Before she released her brother, Asha scrunched up her face and threatened, “I’ve picked up how to chain lightning recently, Falon. Your hair will be standing on end for days if you don’t do exactly as Commander Cullen requested.” She tossed her chin in the air, and Falon could once again move freely.

“Don’t think this is over, squirt. Mamae and Ser Lysette will both be hearing about this,” Falon snarled as he pushed past his sister.

“Be a tattletale. You’ll only make yourself look like a whiny fool when I tell them what you were up to,” Asha threw back undaunted.

Cullen rubbed his forehead vigorously as he debated whether to scold Asha for encasing her brother or praise her resourcefulness. He opted to do neither hoping that he could somehow remain neutral. Asha wasn’t about to let that happen, however.

“Right, Commander?” she quizzed, and Falon stopped to hear Cullen’s response.

“I very much understand your brother’s desire to protect your mother. I asked to join her,” he told Asha and then addressed Falon, “The Inquisitor specifically told me that she wanted me to stay at Skyhold. It isn’t an easy thing to do, but I will respect her wishes.” He left the _and so should you_ unsaid.

Falon gulped and looked torn but then saluted Cullen and left to fulfill his orders. Once her brother was out of earshot, Cullen remarked to Asha, “There were better ways to handle Falon’s upset than casting a spell on him.”

“Mamae probably won’t be coming back. I can’t lose my brother, too,” Asha replied looking much older and wearier than her nine years.

“Your mother is incredibly resourceful, Asha. She will find a way to return to us,” Cullen whispered as he kneeled and wrapped his arms around Asha who had lost her bravado and was crying freely.

“I want to believe that,” she responded between sobs. “But I just can’t. It took dozens of mages to help her seal the Breach before. She’s going with just three others this time. How will they have the power to close it?”

“They will use the orb Corypheus carries. If it can open the Breach, it can surely be used to shut it,” Cullen answered.

“Which means that Mamae and the handful of people fighting with her will have to kill both a dragon and a darkspawn magister that can regenerate himself. You’re right. I’m silly to be worried,” Asha huffed.

“Your mother has survived three trips that took her physically into the Fade. She’s got this,” Cullen said with more certainty than he realized he had before.

“Look, I’ve been _physically_ in the Fade, too. I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s dank, the lighting is bad, and the decor has no redeeming value,” Asha said authoritatively, and Cullen had to restrain himself from chuckling at Dorian’s obvious influence on her.

“Lady Morrigan has learned how to transform herself into a dragon,” Cullen confided.

“You can do that? I mean ... not you... you’re a mundane, but mages can do that? I mean I knew they could turn into bears or spiders... but dragons?” Asha enthused. “I’ve got to get her to teach me how.”

Cullen smacked his forehead as he grasped why Nehn had hinted that it might not be the best idea to disclose their plans to Asha. _You idiot! You should have known Asha’s first reaction to hearing that someone could shape shift into dragon form would be, “When can I try that?”_ he chastised himself. _How does Nehn do this? Keep up with the Inquisition... manage her kids... have a life. No wonder she’s always exhausted and on the verge of tears. I’m at my wits’ end after thirty minutes._

“Well, if Lady Morrigan is willing to teach you...” he replied casually. _At least Asha is thinking about something other than the danger Nehn is facing._

Asha’s face wrinkled with deep thought. “It won’t be easy to convince Kieran’s mamae. She’s not a pushover like Helaine...”

_Only Asha would see Commander Helaine as a doormat._ “I’d think you’d have to get your mother’s clearance as well,” Cullen continued.

Asha screwed her mouth tightly which made her dimple indent deeply into her cheek. “I’ll worry about that later,” she finally declared quoting her mother’s favorite phrase. “We’d better go meet with your officers now. I want to make sure that Falon did as he was told.”

Cullen pursed his lips to keep from laughing at Asha’s business-like demeanor and gestured for her to lead the way. _Might as well let her come along. At least I’ll know what she’s up to. I’ll make sure to tell the guards where we’re headed, so Lysette can catch up to us once she returns from Asha’s goose chase._

************************  
Nehn barely spoke as her team rode toward Haven. Varric and Bull both tried to draw her out of her head and into conversation but eventually relented. After several hours of the Inquisitor being uncharacteristically introspective, Cole finally sped his horse to ride alongside hers before gesturing Nehn to stop. She complied, and Cole encouraged her to get on his horse. “Join me,” he said as he extended his hand to her. Nehn’s eyes brimmed with tears as she climbed on behind Cole and clung to his back after handing the reins of her horse to Dorian. 

Cole kicked his horse forward before speaking, “You feel alone, abandoned, but you are wrong. Spirits press against the Veil to watch you, and the gods guide your steps.”

“The gods aren’t real, Cole,” Nehn replied flatly.

“What is real?” he asked. 

Nehn pounded her head gently against his back to protest his existential question and struggled to formulate an answer. “Maybe _real_ isn’t the right term,” she finally sighed. “They are or were real in the sense that they could be touched, seen, and heard, but they aren’t worthy of veneration. I understand your point, though. Mythal has helped us even if it was for her own reasons, and I’ve been guided by Sylaise’s principles even if she wasn’t actively assisting us.”

“ _Pride_ can make it difficult to recognize the help that has been given,” Cole said cryptically.

“I’ve never been called prideful before,” Nehn commented. “I don’t feel especially capable or important - just incredibly lucky and unlucky at the same time.”

“I wasn’t speaking about you,” Cole answered with a chuckle. “You aren’t crying on the inside or outside any longer. Did I help?” he asked.

Nehn cuddled up to his back and smiled, “I suppose you did. If you don’t mind, I’ll just stay snuggled up to you. The wind is brutal, and you’re surprisingly warm for a spirit.”

“Do spirits usually feel cold to you?” he quizzed.

“Usually, they don’t feel like much of anything - a butterfly’s touch or a soft breeze. That is until they turn into demons ... then they’re pretty noticeable,” Nehn replied with a wry grin.

“That was a joke,” Cole reported. “Varric has been trying to teach me how to tell one. Say, _Knock, knock..._ , and I’ll show you.”

“I think you are supposed to say _Knock, knock_ first, Cole.”

“Why? Shouldn’t you get a turn?” 

Nehn rubbed her forehead and pondered whether it was worthwhile to try to explain why Cole needed to lead off the joke if he wanted to deliver the punchline. She finally decided it would take too much effort and said simply, “Knock, knock...”

“Who’s there?” Cole asked eagerly.

Nehn started hooting at the oddity of her telling Cole’s knock knock joke.

“See, I’m really getting good at them,” he said happily which made Nehn laugh even harder.

“You’re a comedic savant, Cole,” Nehn gasped between giggles.

“Cole fixed the Boss,” Bull said in a low voice to Varric.

“Thank Andraste’s flaming knickers,” Varric responded. “I was beginning to worry that we’d have to turn around and get Curly.”

“He’d probably be grateful to go with us. She put him in charge of her brood while she’s gone,” Bull noted.

“Shit,” Varric commented while shaking his head. Bull stared at him quizzically.

“I’m just thinking I’ll have to come up with a new nickname for Curly. He’s bound to have pulled all his hair out by the time we get back,” Varric explained, and Bull roared his agreement with a throaty guffaw.

****************  
Later that night, the Inquisitor’s team set up camp in the same basin where they had camped after Haven’s fall. The weather was unseasonably cold and Nehn was shivering despite sitting near the fire and wearing several layers topped with Cullen’s red mantle which she had fashioned into a cape by putting over her head.

“You look absolutely ridiculous,” Dorian mocked as he pulled his own coat around himself tighter.

Nehn shrugged. “I’d wear a jester’s outfit if it could keep me warm.”

Solas ambled by wearing his usual outfit which left both his head and toes completely exposed. Hearing Nehn and Dorian grouse about the chill, he offered to teach them the spell he used to stay comfortable. “It requires a fair amount of concentration at first, but if you throw the effort spent in complaining about the weather into channeling the spell you should manage.”

Although inwardly seething at his condescending demeanor, Nehn eagerly listened as Solas explained the spell. She was soon comfortably warm enough to remove Cullen’s mantle and move away from the fire.

“You, dear sir, are a god,” she told Solas as she gave him a grateful kiss on the cheek. “I can finally feel my fingers and toes. Ma serannas.” Solas looked decidedly amused and merely nodded his head at her enthusiastic thanks.

“Walk with me?” she asked hesitantly.

“Of course, Inquisitor,” he responded as he folded his hands behind his back and joined Nehn as she distanced them from camp. He smiled when he realized she had walked him to exactly where he had disclosed the orb’s nature as well as the existence of Skyhold.

“One way or another you’ll be gone tomorrow,” she stated. “It has always bothered me that I never got to say _Dareth shiral_ to Garel. I wanted to seize this opportunity to say it to you and let you know how grateful I am to you. Dareth shiral, hahren,” she said solemnly as she bowed to Solas.

“And you accuse me of being fatalistic?” he said with an arched brow and folded arms.

“Either we defeat Corypheus and seal the Breach or we fail. In either event, your purpose in joining the Inquisition will end. You’ll return to the duty that you knew would draw you away,” she stated seriously.

“Is this what was on your mind today?” he questioned.

“Primarily. It’s also been difficult to think past the pain,” she confided as she held her marked hand out toward him. The mass of magic was swirling violently in her palm and green tendrils were extending up her arm.

“It has become unstable,” he said as his brow knitted with worry. “You should have let me know earlier.”

“I didn’t want to concern the others. What was it you said at Adamant? _Project confidence, so that others may reflect it._ Admitting that I’ll die if the Breach isn’t closed soon wouldn’t exactly bolster their spirits, Solas.”

He took her marked hand into her own and seemed to pull some of the energy from it into himself. Nehn’s own discomfort eased, but from Solas’ ragged breathing, she surmised the process was excruciating for him.

“Is this how you kept me alive before?” she quizzed. “Siphoning off as much as your body could stand?”

Solas gave a weak yes before clearing his throat and speaking more forcefully, “It seemed a natural solution.”

“A bit like sucking the venom out of a snake bite - except you absorb it rather than spitting it out,” Nehn postulated.

“It is akin to that - yes,” he agreed with a nod which appeared to make him dizzy. Nehn helped him to sit on a nearby outcropping.

“I’m right about you leaving - aren’t I?” she finally asked.

He reluctantly acknowledged her with a terse assent.

“Will I see you again or be able to find you in the Fade?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said sadly. “Even if you called to me, a person can only be pulled to another through the Fade if they allow it. I will not.”

“Like after your friend Wisdom died,” Nehn pointed out while looking both dejected and annoyed. “Well, I hold no such compunctions,” she announced after a few silent moments. “You are always welcome to contact me physically or in the Fade. I’m indebted to you for your assistance.”

“No,” Solas said sharply enough that Nehn startled. He took a gentler tone as he explained, “There is no debt between us. My assistance was freely given, Inquisitor. _Ar lasa mala revas._ I free you from any obligation you feel.”

Nehn was puzzled by his forceful reaction to her gratitude but guessed it had to do with her expressing indebtedness to him. _He truly wants there to be no ties between us,_ she thought, and she began to pick at her coat as her throat became tight and her eyes moist.

“It isn’t that I don’t want to ever see you again. I simply can’t,” he added softly seeing her hurt. 

Nehn embraced him tightly as she exclaimed, “I’m going to miss you, hahren.” He stiffened at her touch but then slowly allowed himself to soak up the affection her hug communicated. 

“And I you, Inquisitor.”

“Just remember that I’m flighty, hot-headed, and stubborn if you ever need to call to me in the Fade,” she said describing some of her defining features as she pulled back from the tight hug but held him in her arms and gaze. “I promise I’ll answer.”

“That is never how I’ve called to you,” he said shaking his head as he broke away. _I would only need to think of my heart,_ he thought but pushed those feelings down. _The People need you,_ he reminded himself.

“We will be successful tomorrow, Inquisitor,” he said authoritatively.

“How can you be so certain?”

“You are relentless when you are determined to win. The magister has never stood a chance,” he answered with a proud smile. “Put him in his place, Inquisitor. You’re quite good at doing that.”


	100. Chapter 100

Cullen’s officers and NCO’s had assembled for morning report, but they were at a loss as to what to do next. Their Commander sat at his desk dead to the world and slack-jawed wearing a tiara and feather boa. His cross-dressing might have given them cause for concern if it weren’t for the tiny elven girl curled up on his lap who was also sleeping soundly.

“She has him wrapped around her finger more tightly than the Inquisitor does,” a lieutenant whispered.

“Reckon he was willing to do just about anything to keep her happy. Wouldn’t be no easy task what with her mama off to Haven,” one of the sergeants added.

“We can’t keep staring at them,” Knight Captain Chambreterre said with exasperation before reaching out to shake Cullen’s shoulder. “Sir, we’re ready to report.”

Cullen woke with a start. Rubbing his eyes while trying not to disturb Asha, he apologized for oversleeping. “Had a bit of a rough night,” he whispered while pointing toward the little mage.

“Figured as much, Sir,” the sergeant said while gesticulating to his head. Cullen quickly realized that he was still wearing the tiara.

“Maker!” Cullen shouted. He pulled the boa and crown off and tossed them aside then looked terrified that his noise and movement might have roused Asha. She briefly wiggled around in his lap, smacking her lips before falling back into a deep sleep. Cullen let out a sigh of relief.

“Please, just keep the reports brief and quiet. The longer she sleeps the better chance I have of remaining sane,” Cullen admitted. His soldiers that had children gave him knowing and sympathetic looks while those without families of their own thought they could have done better than to end up sleeping in a chair, wearing a costume while cradling a child.

“The night was quiet save for the Breach expanding. All of the spymaster’s scouts have reported in, and none have seen any unusual activity. Ravens arrived saying the Inquisitor and her party had made camp where we set up with the refugees after Haven fell. Forward scouts at Haven have reported that there are no Wardens, Venatori or Red Templars in the area - just the magister and his dragon,” the head of the night watch related efficiently.

Cullen nodded and said, “Tell our people to remain on alert.” He paused a moment and then added, “You might mention for them to be praying for the Inquisitor and her team if they are so inclined.”

“Doubt there’s very many of us that aren’t doing that already,” the sergeant observed. _Except the Inquisitor herself,_ Cullen thought. _Of all the times to abandon her faith..._

“If that’s everything, then you are dismissed,” Cullen announced, and his soldiers filed out of the room. The old sergeant stayed behind.

“Her boy practices archery with my unit. I’ll keep a close eye on him,” he volunteered. “Can’t be an easy time for him neither. When do you think we’ll know something?”

“With the road improvements we’ve made, their camp is two to three hours ride outside of Haven. If I know the Inquisitor, they left at first light. We have only to watch the sky to know whether they have succeeded,” Cullen replied with careworn deliberateness.

“I saw the look on her face as she left yesterday. If there isn’t a way to win, she’ll make one, Sir,” the sergeant said firmly. 

Cullen smirked, “I’d have to agree with you. I’ve never met someone with more determination,” he chuckled and then furrowed his brow. “Except for possibly this one,” he said while gesturing to Asha. “Maker help the man that falls in love with her someday.”

*******************  
Nehn cracked her neck and sent a pulse of healing energy into her bad shoulder after having slain Corypheus’ dragon. With the exception of Morrigan who was laying still on the ground with a bad gash across her forehead and several broken bones, the Inquisitor’s team bore no significant injuries. Nehn signaled Solas to begin healing Morrigan as she directed the remainder of her team to drink some restoratives and then accompany her to face Corypheus. 

“I don’t know how long of a window we have to end him now that his dragon is down,” Nehn explained while twirling her staff nervously. “We must act quickly,” she announced putting the staff on her back and preparing to run after the magister who had escaped further up the rocky remnants of the temple grounds.

“Let’s finish the bastard off!” Bull shouted as he raced up the uneven steps. Cassandra and Fenris followed close behind.

“Don’t forget dwarves have short legs,” Varric called out as he trailed after them. “I want to get at least one shot in on the asshole.”

The confrontation with Corypheus was no more difficult than closing a particularly challenging fade rift. After Nehn seized control of the orb from the magister and disintegrated his body sending its essence into the Fade, she mused, _Well, that was anti-climactic._

A savage onslaught of pain in her marked hand reminded her that the Breach still needed to be closed. _I hope this works,_ she thought as she tossed the foci toward the Breach and then concentrated the Mark’s magic on the orb while willing the Breach to seal. Her jubilation at seeing the Breach mend was cut short when she realized the force of magic she had generated was causing the jagged rocks around her to come crashing down. Not bothering to try and catch the orb, she fade stepped out of the way of a boulder narrowly missing being crushed. A few terrifying seconds later, all was silent although the air around her was thick with dust.

“Sassy! Sassy!” she heard Varric shouting.

“Over here. I’m fine. Do you need help?” she called out.

“Naw, we’re good,” he yelled. “We all thought you had bit it, though.”

Nehn made her way to where Varric’s voice was originating and smiled broadly when she saw that her entire team was alive. She gingerly walked down some uneven steps toward them while griping, “I’m tired of having mountains try to squash me.”

After giving everyone in her group a celebratory hug or handshake, Nehn noticed that Solas had broken away from the others. She followed him to where he was kneeling over the pieces of the shattered orb looking absolutely heartbroken.

“Solas, I know you wanted to study the orb. I’m so sorry. Do you think we can fix it?”

“No,” he said while standing straight. “Whatever power it had is now lost. There is nothing to be done.” 

“This is where our journey together ends - isn’t it?” she replied with a breaking voice. “The others are so absorbed in their celebration that you’ll be able to slip away unnoticed if you so desire. Dareth shiral, hahren.”

“You are a rare and marvelous spirit, Inquisitor. I count myself fortunate that our paths crossed at all. Dareth shiral,” Solas said with a small bow. He waited until Nehn was out of earshot to add, “ma vhenan,” to his goodbye.

*********************  
Cullen couldn’t decide whether he should try to rouse Asha to join everyone to watch the skies or let her rest. Exhaustion overtook him as he deliberated, and he, too, fell back to sleep. Only when a loud chorus of cheers echoed through Skyhold did both Cullen and Asha awaken.  
“What happened?” Asha asked as she scooted off Cullen’s lap and surveyed his office. Cullen opened a door and looked to the sky to see the Breach had disappeared leaving only the faintest of scars above.

“Your mother... she did it!” he said excitedly as he pointed to the air.

“The Inquisition’s greatest victory, and I slept through it?” Asha huffed. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Cullen picked her up and swung her around. “We may have missed the battle, but we can join in the celebration. Come on, da’len. Let’s go find your sister and brother.”

Asha grinned from ear to ear at hearing Cullen’s use of an elven diminutive. She laced her hand in his and began a litany of questions related to whether there would be entertainers, cakes, and fireworks. “Oooohh, I bet Maryden writes a new song about this. I hope it is as catchy as Sera’s tune. I can’t get that blasted thing out of my head,” she bubbled as she skipped alongside Cullen, who felt as if he was floating on air, until Asha stopped suddenly and asked, “How do we know Mamae is okay, though?”

“We’re talking about your mother. She’s the definition of unstoppable. I guarantee we’ll get a raven carrying a message with her seal by the late afternoon. You’ll see,” he said with a grin as he tousled Asha’s auburn hair.

After catching up with Falon and Sylvia, Asha declared that one of them should stake out the rookery. “That way we’ll know about Mamae the fastest.” Once Falon pointed out the Kieran was staying with Leliana, Asha volunteered to wait for the message. Lysette trailed after Asha reminding her that she still had lessons to attend. As Asha willfully ignored Lysette’s entreaties, Falon turned to Cullen. “If most mages are like Asha, I can see why you used to lock them up in Circles.”

“Most mages are definitely not like Asha,” Cullen laughed. “She’s _a very special snowflake_ as Dorian would say. The world would be better off with more people like your sister, though. She’s thoughtful and brave.”

“She’s also an enormous pest,” Falon added. “At least you were the one that had to wear the tiara this time.” 

***********************  
Nehn opted to ride in the back of a wagon with Morrigan, so she could further attend to the shapeshifter’s wounds on the return journey to Skyhold. As they bounced along, she couldn’t resist asking the raven-haired sorceress a question that had been niggling at her mind for the past week, “You refer to the Hero of Ferelden as your husband, but you ascribe to no religion. How were you married then?”

“Love is not reserved for those who cling to stories about the gods, Inquisitor. Nor is marriage. ‘Tis but a promise to be committed to another is it not? Or do you think only the religious are able to keep their oaths?” Morrigan said with a hint of condescension in her voice.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Nehn said abashedly. “I should have asked _who_ married you. I assume it wasn’t someone from the Chantry.”

Morrigan made a disgusted noise. “Most certainly not. We married each other, Inquisitor. There was no need for someone to officiate or even witness our vows. They were made between the two people that mattered - my husband and myself. I wonder though... why the curiosity? Is the Commander eager to make an honest woman out of you?”

“We’ve _discussed_ marriage, but we aren’t officially betrothed,” Nehn said hesitantly.

“Don’t be concerned, Inquisitor. I shan’t go blathering your affairs about Skyhold. ‘Twas simply a logical conclusion to draw from your questions,” Morrigan said with a curt nod.

“Thank you,” Nehn breathed. _The last thing I need is to be hounded by nobles wanting invitations to a wedding before I’m even engaged._ “Kieran has been a very good friend to Asha,” Nehn remarked to change the subject.

“As she is to him. I’m afraid, though, that my mother has taken note of her, and I know not how that bodes for Asha’s future,” Morrigan cautioned.

“I rarely shared the stories describing the darker natures of our gods with her. Losing her father and being an elven mage seemed enough of a burden. That was probably a mistake in retrospect. Had she heard those tales, she might not have been so flippant with Mythal,” Nehn confessed. “Do you think your mother will leave Kieran and you alone? She did get the ancient soul he carried.” 

“Mother rarely makes empty threats. She swore to hound me, and I expect she shall. Or at the very least, she will try. I am not without my own tricks, however,” Morrigan said with a sly smile. 

“After I drank from the well and Mother revealed herself, Solas shared a way to shield some of my thoughts from Mythal. Quite the man of mystery, our Elvhen friend... The well’s voices would barely speak when I was in his presence,” Morrigan noted with a raised brow.

_That’s odd. Why would Mythal’s servants clam up around him?_ Nehn wondered. _Worry about that later. You’re going to give yourself a headache trying to make sense of anything that involves Solas._

********************  
As Cullen predicted, Baron Plucky as well as several other ravens arrived at Skyhold late in the afternoon bearing notes with the Inquisitor’s seal. They each held the same terse, uncoded message in Nehn’s neat handwriting. 

_Magister and his dragon dead. Breach sealed. Team well and returning home._

Asha took one of the messages and rushed to her family’s quarters after being assured by an amused Leliana that Cullen would indeed be notified of Nehn’s note. As soon as she opened the door leading to their apartments, Asha started shouting, “Mamae’s on her way home!” while waving the paper in the air triumphantly. Sylvia looked like she might faint from relief and leaned against Sionn who was exultant. Falon grabbed Asha’s hands and began dancing with his little sister.

After making a few passes about the room, Falon lifted Asha onto his shoulders and headed down the stairs. “Let’s see if we can talk the Commander into riding out to meet them, Squirt” he said. “Once Mamae gets here, there’ll be no end to the people wanting to congratulate her, and I refuse to stand in line to see my own mother.” 

“Let me handle him,” Asha volunteered before shouting up the stairs. “Hey, Syl, Falon and I are going to be riding out to see Mamae. Wanna come?”

Sylvia was torn. She couldn’t wait to see her mother, but the thought of spending hours on a horse with her big belly and small bladder was unappealing. “I’ll stay here. Make sure to give her extra love from me, though,” she said as Sionn pulled her closer and nuzzled her cheek.

When Asha and Falon arrived in Cullen’s office, he immediately sensed he was in trouble. _They’re either double teaming me, or they’re here to tattle on each other. Either way, I wish Nehn was back._ Asha calmly laid out the reasons why they should be granted permission to ride out to meet the Inquisitor’s party while Falon occasionally interjected his entreaties as well. Cullen listened while tenting his fingers and pretending to carefully consider their words when in truth he had made up his mind the minute he pieced together what they wanted. After hearing Asha and Falon out, he sat silent as if thinking and then announced with a broad smile, “Permission granted on one condition... that I accompany you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 chapters, 200K words - and I've just about wrapped up the main story line. Confetti and cookie cake for all!
> 
> My brain is buzzing with aftergame content that I want to convey. Having just bought the Descent and Jaws of Hakkon DLCs, I will try to incorporate them a bit into Nehn's story. And of course, I'll write plenty of family and friend fluff. 
> 
> Updates will likely come out once or twice a week at this point. And I promise, I haven't forgotten about my other story. Ev and Cullen; Martha and James will ride again (as soon as I figure out how to multi-task or get to a natural stopping point with Nehn whichever comes first.)


	101. Chapter 101

As soon as she spotted the wagon approaching their camp, Sera drew her bow and trained an arrow on its driver. Just as quickly, she lowered her bow and called out, “Looks like Cully Wully couldn’t wait for us to make it back to Skyhold.” Nehn dropped the armor she had been cleaning and ran toward the wagon. “Not just Cullen, Sera. He brought two of my babies, too!” she exclaimed.

Cullen had no more pulled the mule to a halt than Nehn had jumped into the wagon and began smothering Falon, Asha, and Cullen with hugs and kisses while babbling excitedly in an incoherent mishmash of elven and the Common Tongue. Once she finally calmed down enough to speak in a single language, Nehn recounted how the confrontation with Corypheus and his dragon had gone. “I had more difficulty taking out the dragons in Emprise du Lion,” she remarked when Falon wanted more details about that part of the battle. “Of course, Morrigan had softened the magister’s dragon considerably for me,” Nehn added humbly.

“Is Kieran’s mamae okay?” Asha worried.

“She took quite a few bumps and bruises, but she will recover completely. I’m sure she’d love to see you, Asha,” Nehn smiled.

“Do you think she’ll teach me how to turn into a dragon if I ask nicely?” Asha quizzed. Nehn gave Cullen a dirty look for relating that particular part of their battle strategy to her fearless child.

“I hope not,” Nehn sighed. “You need to concentrate on basic spellcasting. Shapeshifting isn’t very practical.”

“But it’s awesome!” Asha protested. “Maybe if Lady Morrigan won’t teach me her mother will.”

Nehn’s heart nearly stopped at the thought of Asha approaching Flemeth for anything. “She never helps mortals without demanding a high price, da’len. I would not be in a rush to seek her assistance or company,” Nehn said sharply.

Asha let out an exasperated huff, and Nehn made a mental note to spend more time telling the tales that showed the capricious and malevolent tendencies of the elven pantheon. _A little fear may be just what Asha needs, or else she may start trying to find Fen’Harel for some lessons, too._

After sharing a meal together, Falon wandered away to talk with his friends that had traveled as part of the healer’s contingent, and Asha pattered off to demand a ride on Bull’s horns. As Cullen went to check on the mule and two horses they’d brought, Nehn peeked at the wagon’s contents. “There’s an awful lot back here for a trip that’s taking you only a few hours outside of Skyhold,” she noted when Cullen returned.

Cullen looked sheepish and said, “We have some dealings in Ferelden that I hoped you would help me attend.”

“What dealings does the Inquisition have in Ferelden?” Nehn asked wearily. “I thought we had everything sorted out there before we left for the Wilds.” 

“Not we, the Inquisition,” Cullen explained as he took Nehn about the waist. “We - you and I.”

“Just us?” Nehn questioned while beginning to bounce up and down.

“Just us,” Cullen stated emphatically. “Corypheus is defeated. His army is in shambles. Southern Thedas is stable for the nonce. We’ve earned some time off - don’t you think?” 

“Yes!” Nehn nearly yelled. “I just can’t believe that you’re the one to suggest it,” she said a little more quietly when she noticed her teammates looking over at them.

“I’m full of surprises,” Cullen replied before giving Nehn a peck on the lips.

“What about Falon and Asha, though?” 

Cullen pointed to the two horses he’d brought with them. “They can ride back with your team. I’ve already cleared our trip with them as well as Sylvia.”

“Did you tell Leliana and Josephine?”

“Leliana knows how to contact us. Informing the Ambassador slipped my mind when I heard the words _celebratory soiree_ cross her lips,” Cullen said with a wicked grin.

“I like this new rebellious streak of yours, Commander,” Nehn said flirtatiously. “Taking me on a vacation _and_ getting me out of one of Josie’s stuffy parties? You know how to make a girl swoon.”

Cullen chuckled. “Maker, you’re easy to please. I haven’t even told you where we’re going.”

“As long as it isn’t the Fallow Mire, I’m happy.”

Cullen bit his lip and looked worried.

“You weren’t seriously planning on taking a holiday in the Fallow Mire - were you?” Nehn asked in sheer horror.

Cullen snorted, “No, silly. I can’t believe you fell for that. We are most definitely going somewhere nicer than the Fallow Mire, but I’m not disclosing where.”

“Oooohh, a mystery... do I get to make guesses or will you provide clues? Or is this going to turn a little kinky, and you’ll blindfold me?” Nehn asked as her hands toyed with the fur on Cullen’s coat.

“No guessing games or clues. You’re too sharp and would have our destination figured out before we leave tomorrow. No blindfolds either. I want you to be able to enjoy the scenery.”

Nehn pouted with disappointment, and Cullen relented, “Okay, fine... you get three yes/no questions and then one guess.”

“Yay!” Nehn said while clapping her hands. “I love guessing games. Let’s see... first question.... Have I visited this place while I’ve been Inquisitor?”

“No.”

“Hmmm.... Are we going to see your family in South Reach?”

“No, and you aren’t supposed to be guessing locations until you finish with your three questions.”

“When _did_ you last visit them, Cullen?”

“Are you giving up on the game?” 

“No, I’ll come back to it. Really, though, when was the last time you saw your sisters and brother?”

“Before the Blight,” Cullen admitted. _I can see where this is going,_ he thought and then braced for Nehn’s next question.

“Don’t you think that maybe...” Nehn started.

“Nehn, I want to have time with you - just you and only you,” Cullen said firmly. “It’s been over a decade since I’ve seen them - a few months won’t make any difference.”

“Okay, it’s just that if I had a chance to see my sister or parents...”

“We can have Leliana work on finding them, Nehn,” Cullen pointed out.

“They wouldn’t want to see me. I’m not exactly a good Dalish any longer,” Nehn said as her eyes filled with tears.

“Love, you literally just finished saving the world for pity’s sake. I'm sure they'll get past you questioning your faith,” Cullen comforted.

Nehn didn’t argue but just stared at Cullen. “You weren’t thinking about that though... were you? It’s me ... us,” he said slowly as the realization hit him. 

“You’re worth it,” she said while putting her hand to his face. “Whatever I’ve given up ... you are worth it. Don’t ever doubt that, Cullen. It’s just I wonder if...”

“What, love? You wonder what?” he questioned gently. 

“If you haven’t introduced me to your family for similar reasons,” she admitted with downcast eyes.

“No, that isn’t it at all. They are dying to meet you. I’ve been putting them off because of the war and my addiction - not you. They don’t care that you’re an elf and a Mage. They’re just amazed I found someone willing to put up with me. Mia's last letter asked what sort of blackmail I was using to coerce you into marriage.”

“You’ve told them that we’re getting married?” Nehn asked with marked surprise.

“I ... well... yes... I ...about that... I suppose I should have waited until you said _yes_ officially, but I wanted to see if I could use my grandmother’s ring. Branson’s wife wears our mother’s...” Cullen stumbled.

“You wrote to your family, told them you wanted to marry me, and asked for a family heirloom?” Nehn clarified.

“Yes,” Cullen said hesitantly. “I hope that was alright...”

“Alright? It’s _wonderful._ You’re wonderful,” Nehn said as she started to cry again - this time from happiness. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit emotional. It’s been a trying week...” Nehn apologized.

“What? You mean you don’t meet a god and battle a wannabe one and his pet dragon every week?” Cullen teased and wrapped her in his arms. “I love you, Nehn. Even when you get emotional...especially when you get emotional ... I love you.”


	102. Chapter 102

Nehn cuddled up next to Cullen on the wagon’s bench and adjusted the blanket she’d put over their laps. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she said for the umpteenth time since they’d left camp that morning.

“I promised you that one day we’d have a chance to breathe. Enjoy it, love,” Cullen said while putting an arm around her and kissing the top of her head.

“We’re both dressed like _normal_ people taking a _normal_ trip,” she gushed. “You aren’t wearing a stitch of armor. I thought I’d never see you that way outside of the bedroom or a ballroom.”

“We’re trying to be inconspicuous. If you were carrying a staff while I wore full plate, people would notice. It’s actually safer this way,” Cullen explained. "And I still have my sword, and you don't need a staff to cast."

“I know, I know... you always have to have a logical reason, but I’m overjoyed I can feel _you_ rather than metal and boiled leather,” Nehn giggled as she squeezed Cullen happily.

“Are you going to hug me the entire trip?”

“Probably. We never really get a chance to snuggle, and you are snuggle-licious,” Nehn said gleefully.

“Maker, don’t let Sera hear you say that,” Cullen warned. “ _Cully Wully_ is bad enough but _Snuggle-licious_? I’d have to resign my command. There’s no way any soldier worth his or her salt would follow someone with that moniker.”

“How about _Cuddle Dumpling_?” Nehn cajoled.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t call you anything silly, Stud Muffin,” Nehn answered while elbowing Cullen playfully.

“You’re rather goofy when you don’t have the weight of the world on your shoulders,” Cullen teased and then brushed his hand along Nehn’s ticklish spot.

“No fair!” Nehn cried out once she stopped reflexively laughing. “That spot is off limits!”

“Whatever you say, Sweet Cakes,” Cullen answered with a wink. 

“I actually like that nickname. I do love sweets - especially cakes,” Nehn grinned.

“You’re so happy to be away from Skyhold and the Inquisition that I can’t even annoy you when I’m trying,” Cullen remarked.

“If you mention the _I_ word again, you’ll see me angry. I refuse to discuss the _I_ word, any of its affiliates, or its enemies,” Nehn proclaimed vigorously before adding, “You may, however, indulge in idle gossip and prattle about my inner circle, of course.”

“Of course.”

“So are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Nehn asked while fluttering her eyelashes.

“No, but you still have one more question as well as a guess left over from yesterday’s game,” Cullen reminded.

“I really thought I had it with South Reach, but if we aren’t going there I’m assuming you’re taking me somewhere you’ve been before...” 

“Is that your question?” 

“No, I’m just thinking out loud. I’ll let you know when I’m asking in earnest... It has to be somewhere you’ve been already because you hate surprises. You spent much of your early years at Kinloch Hold, but I doubt you’d want to return there. Your father was a farmer, so you were tied to the land. I don’t remember you ever mentioning traveling to Highever or Denerim - even to sell goods,” Nehn mused. “What crops did your father grow anyway?”

“Is _that_ your question?” Cullen asked pointedly.

“No, it’s a conversation starter. C’mon... what type of farmer was he? I need to know so my fantasies about farmer Cullen can be accurate.”

“You fantasize about me ... as a _farmer_?”

“Oh, I don’t limit my imagination, but I have to admit that’s one of my favorites,” Nehn said deviously. “You shirtless and sweaty... tossing bales of hay or milking cows or doing other farmer-y things.”

“Farmer-y?” Cullen questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Look, I’m Dalish. We’re nomadic. I’m not pretending to be an agricultural expert. Work with me here,” Nehn pleaded.

“My father was a freehold farmer meaning that he owned his own land. We lived just outside the village of Honnleath,” Cullen began.

“That’s it! That’s where we’re going. You’re taking me to where you grew up,” Nehn interrupted.

“Do you want to hear about our farm, or would you rather continue making wild conjectures?” Cullen said with annoyance.

“You’re angry which means I guessed it,” Nehn started bouncing on the wagon bench. “I’ve often envisioned what your village must have looked like. As well as you with your wooden sword begging the templars for lessons. Now I’ll get to see it in person,” Nehn squealed.

“Maker’s breath, Nehn. Do you ever stop imagining things?”

“Of course not. I’m a mage. I imagine things pretty much as an occupation,” Nehn responded sounding slightly incensed. “Are you telling me you never wonder what I was like as a little girl?”

“I don’t have to wonder. I have only to look at Asha,” Cullen quipped.

“Believe it or not, Asha is not an exact replica of me,” Nehn huffed.

“I know that, but you have to admit there are striking similarities between you in both appearance and temperament,” Cullen pointed out.

“I was much easier to distract than Asha, and my mastery of magic came much slower. She has a singularity of focus and innate magical aptitude that is at times frightening, Cullen,” Nehn said seriously. 

“You do a very good job keeping her grounded,” Cullen answered patting Nehn’s leg. “She _is_ precocious, but she seems to know her limits. I credit you for that.”

“You did hear her talking about wanting to become a dragon - right?” Nehn quizzed.

“I did. If I were a mage, I’d want to become a dragon. Don’t you?” 

“Of course not. I’d have scales, and people would be terrified of me. If I were to shape shift, I’d want to be something lovable - like a nug or maybe a halla.”

“I don’t think either would last very long in a fight. A dragon, on the other hand, is almost invincible.” Cullen noted. 

“But if I were a halla or a nug, no one would want to kill me. Well, except maybe for food. Hmm... perhaps I should rethink my choices.” Nehn said as she screwed up her face while reconsidering her options. “Maybe a mabari then. I’d be lovable and capable of defending myself. Turning into a dragon is just overkill in my opinion.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point? To strike fear in your enemies?” Cullen asked.

“How should I know? I’ve never been a shapeshifter. I thought they primarily did it because they were nosy or bad at elemental magics. You know - turn into a mouse so you can eavesdrop or a giant spider because you can’t manage a decent fire spell. That sort of thing.” Nehn said with a shrug.

Cullen snickered and then admitted his agreement. “With the exception of Morrigan and her mother, I’ve never known a shapeshifter that wasn’t either a busybody or a piss poor mage otherwise.”

“Uh huh, see why I told Asha to concentrate on more practical spells. Shapeshifting is for gods and idiots - Morrigan excluded.”

“For gods?” 

“Legends point to many of the elven gods being shape changers. Mythal is said to have taken the form of a snake to subdue Andruil. Fen’Harel was likely called the Dread Wolf for a reason. When we were in the temple of Dirthamen, there were inscriptions referring to someone who changed into a form reserved for the gods which caused the gods all sorts of consternation. But we’re veering widely off track... go back to telling me about hot, sweaty shirtless farm boy Cullen,” Nehn prodded.

Cullen sighed, “You do realize that I left my family at thirteen.”

“You’re ruining my fantasy here...” Nehn growled. “Didn’t you come back during breaks in your training to help bring in the harvest or some such?”

“No, but feel free to imagine that I did if it makes you happy,” Cullen said with resignation.

“Oh believe me, I will,” Nehn said with a crooked smile. “Now I promise I’ll listen closely this time. Tell me about growing up in Honnleath.”

“I will, but it is nearing supper time. There’s a village nearby. We’ll get a room at the inn, and I will tell you whatever you want to know about my childhood although it’s a pretty dull subject. Chores, lessons, more chores, more lessons, going to the Chantry for prayers, then more chores... you get the idea.”

*************  
A short while later Cullen had driven the wagon into a tiny village two day’s ride west of Redcliffe. Nehn sat alone while he went to see if the inn had any vacancies. He came out a few minutes later. “We have our choice of rooms. They’re practically empty,” he announced while helping Nehn out of the wagon and grabbing their bags. “I’ll get you situated and then get the mule stabled.”

When Nehn entered the tavern, she felt ill at ease as everyone turned to stare. The innkeeper cleared his throat and motioned for Cullen to come speak with him. Nehn sat down at a table close to the door and silently hoped that she was misreading the situation.

“When you said that you needed a room for you and another, I didn’t know you were talking about her kind,” the inn’s owner said loudly enough for Nehn to hear.

“You can’t be serious,” Cullen said angrily. “You just finished telling me that you were aching for business."

“It’s alright, Cullen. Let’s go,” Nehn called out to him as she stood to leave.

“No, there is nothing right about it,” Cullen protested while his eyes glinted murderously.

“Cullen, please,” Nehn begged when she saw him teetering on the verge of violence.

“Your knife eared trollop has the right of it. You should go,” the innkeeper hissed and quickly found Cullen’s sword against his throat.

“We’ll leave as soon as you apologize for your rudeness,” Cullen said firmly while keeping his sword against the terrified innkeeper’s neck.

“A forced apology is meaningless. We’ll find another place to stay,” Nehn said steadily as she noticed the tavern’s patrons considering whether to attack. 

“Fine,” Cullen said as he lowered his sword and glared at the innkeeper. Nehn walked deliberately to the door while Cullen stomped behind her with his sword still drawn. 

Just as she reached the door, the innkeeper called out, “That’s right little rabbit. Run off.”

Nehn’s eyes flashed with fire as she flung the tavern door open so hard that its hinges screeched in protest, but she said nothing to the innkeeper which surprised Cullen greatly. Nehn was not one to hold her tongue - especially when she was angry. Immediately after leaving the tavern, Nehn started digging around in her satchel before she found a piece of charcoal. She located an inconspicuous spot that was sheltered from the elements on the wall near the inn’s entrance and hastily drew a symbol on it while Cullen watched her with confusion.

“What are you doing?” Cullen asked as he readied the mule to depart.

“I’m marking his tavern as unfriendly, so other elves do not have to experience the same humiliation,” Nehn answered matter-of-factly before climbing into the wagon. “There’s enough light that we should be able to put some distance between us and this place before we have to stop for the night.”

Cullen nodded and then swallowed hard before speaking, “Nehn, there’s no excuse for how that man treated you.”

Nehn shrugged. “It is simply part of being an elf. My position as Inquisitor protects me from much of it. I’ve no doubt that he would have been a groveling sycophant had he known who I was. I prefer, however, to see him for the man that he is. I will make sure Josie knows about him. I expect he will find it increasingly difficult to stock his ales and that his business from merchants that exchange with the Inquisition will drop abruptly. He is a small man with an even smaller mind. Don’t let it bother you, Cullen.”

Cullen clucked at the mule to trot and watched Nehn from the corner of his eye. Although she never lowered her head or cried, Cullen could tell that her feelings were badly hurt and that she was embarrassed by what had happened. “I’m sorry, Nehn. I didn’t think to ask if he had a problem with elves. I had no idea people were still like that - especially in Ferelden. Our country owes its continued existence to an elf. Kieran’s father saved us from the Blight just a little over a decade ago. And that doesn’t even begin to cover what you’ve done for Thedas.”

“That grates on his kind and only strengthens their hatred,” Nehn said quietly. “I’d rather not speak more about this.”

“As you wish,” Cullen replied reluctantly but didn’t make it a mile down the road before bringing it up again. “You didn’t say anything to him. You just left. I’ve never seen you back down from a fight.”

Nehn sighed. “I didn’t back down. I chose not to engage. People like him are always looking for an excuse to lash out against elves. Had I mouthed off, I guarantee some elven family nearby would have awakened one night to a drunken mob ready to put the knife ears in their place. Since I wouldn’t be around to defend that family from the consequences of my words, I didn’t speak. That doesn’t mean I agreed with or accepted that imbecile’s prejudice.”

“But he thinks he won,” Cullen protested.

“Would you have me confront him? What if he wouldn’t back down? Is it worth killing him and confirming his hatred against elves to the people in that village? Would speaking my mind be worth the reprisals other elves might face? Some people aren’t worth my breath. He is most definitely in that category.” Nehn answered with a trembling voice.

“I just don’t understand,” Cullen finally admitted.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Nehn said. “You’re a human from a relatively well-off family. You didn’t grow up moving every few weeks to avoid being attacked. People don’t automatically assume you’re a servant when they see you. There is a reason Sionn feels as he does and why elves so often speak of enduring. You’ve merely caught your first real glimpse.”


	103. Chapter 103

As she set up camp and started preparing supper, Nehn fumed inwardly about the surly innkeeper’s words. While city elves often dealt with racism, the insular nature of Dalish clans meant that Nehn rarely experienced it firsthand. The Dalish simply avoided humans as a rule - problem solved. On the rare instances when she would accompany Garel to trade in human settlements, they were typically viewed with curiosity rather than animosity. _Garel was very particular about when I could tag along with him, though. He probably shielded me from the worst of it,_ Nehn realized. 

When he finished tending to the mule, Cullen was amazed at everything Nehn accomplished - the tent was pitched, a fire started, and the beginnings of a stew were in the cauldron. “I should have you teach my soldiers how to make camp,” he enthused. 

“Sure have the Dalish woman teach wilderness skills,” Nehn snapped. “Maybe I can lead a class on halla herding after that.”

“Whoa- that is not what I meant,” Cullen said while holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m merely impressed with your efficiency. Well, that and how wonderful whatever you’re cooking smells.”

“Sorry,” Nehn said while scrunching her face apologetically. “As much as I hate to admit it, what happened back in the village really bothered me.”

“Are you sure I can’t just go back and knock him around a little?” Cullen asked only half-joking.

“I’m certain, although I appreciate the sentiment. Can you imagine his reaction if he knew I was a mage as well as an elf?” Nehn laughed.

Cullen didn’t join in her laughter. He had seen what happened when a mage was discovered and the templars arrived only after a mob had formed. He winced at the memories that came to his mind’s eye.

“That bad - huh?” Nehn sighed. “I guess I should count myself lucky that having magic isn’t as easy to detect pointed ears.”

Cullen cleared his throat and looked down the road uneasily before speaking, “With the Circles emptied and the Templar Order effectively defunct, what will happen to a child from that village who comes into magic?”

“Finding a good answer to that question is probably the biggest challenge the next Divine will face,” Nehn noted as she returned to the fire to check on her stew. “I, for one, am thrilled to not be a candidate for that job.”

“I’m glad you aren’t either. The Divine is expected to be celibate after all,” Cullen smirked.

“If I were Divine, that would be one of the first things I changed about the priesthood. No sex? Unacceptable,” Nehn gestured emphatically with the spoon she had been using to stir the stew before placing it in its cradle.

“The idea is they should be concentrating on the Maker’s will rather than carnal desires,” Cullen explained. “Lust can be quite distracting,” he continued while kissing Nehn’s neck from behind.

“Mmm, but I love a good distraction,” Nehn hummed and turned to face Cullen. “Especially if it isn’t covered in armor. We should get Dagna to make you some enchanted clothes. I wouldn’t have to worry about my hair snagging in the metal when I cuddle close or do other things” she said while lowering her gaze and purring her last words before sliding down to her knees. 

“You make a compelling argument,” Cullen admitted before his breath hitched as Nehn provided a demonstration of the benefits of adopting new attire.

************************************  
If Cullen hadn’t assured Nehn they weren’t heading to the Hinterlands, she would have worried that was their destination as they traveled south in the shadow of the Frostback Mountains and almost to the edge of the Korcari Wilds. Their journey ended at tiny hamlet that was barely more than a clump of two dozen buildings arrayed around a circular clearing. “Honnleath - my home town,” Cullen exhaled as he pointed toward the picturesque village nestled in the Frostback’s foothills. 

“It’s smaller than I remembered,” he remarked and then goaded the mule forward. “Most of the buildings are new. The darkspawn hit the village hard,” he said sadly as they got closer.

“Your parents died during the Blight - didn’t they?” Nehn asked, and Cullen nodded.

“I’m told there’s a memorial in the center of town. There used to be a giant statue there. Ugly as anything. We’d dare each other to go up and touch it. Mia always swore she could hear it growl. Turns out she may have. The statue was actually an inactive stone golem. Tabris somehow ended up with its control rod, and the blasted creature joined his fight against the Blight,” Cullen chuckled.

“You’re pulling my leg,” Nehn said skeptically.

“It’s the truth... you can ask Cole. He ended up spending some time with the golem later - said her name was Shale and that she loathed pigeons.”

“Now I know you’re making it up. That’s ridiculous,” Nehn snorted.

“Morrigan will tell you the same tale,” Cullen asserted.

“I guess nothing should surprise me,” Nehn said shaking her head. “I really hope to meet Tabris one day. The stories we could share. If Varric took notes, he’d be set for life.”

“I think he already is,” Cullen said dryly. “That dwarf attracts money like a magnet.”

****************

Nehn looked confused when Cullen drove through Honnleath rather than stopping. “I thought I’d take you out to the farm first,” Cullen explained when he noticed Nehn’s furrowed brow. “My family still owns the land, but our former field hand runs it. We’ll be staying in his old cabin. His family lives in the main house now.”

“Do you ever want to return to farming?” Nehn quizzed.

Cullen gave Nehn an incredulous stare. “Farming is grueling work. I more than had my fill as a lad.”

“What sort of chores did you have?” 

“Everything from feeding livestock to helping my father mend fences. I’d often sneak off, though,” Cullen admitted sheepishly. “It fell to Mia to find me and drag me home.”

“Where would you go?”

“Sometimes I’d walk to town and bother the templars. Usually, I just needed a break from my family more than my chores. I loved them, but they were very loud,” Cullen reminisced.

“Your quiet place... the lake... I remember you mentioning it now. Will you show it to me?” Nehn asked eagerly.

Cullen smiled and pulled the wagon to a halt. “Funny you should ask that,” he said as he gestured to a narrow path that cut through a wheat field. Hopping out of the wagon, he offered Nehn his hand. “It isn’t far,” he grinned.

“I know that smirk. You’re up to something, Commander,” Nehn flirted.

Cullen merely smiled and put his hand at the small of her back to guide her through the field. “Watch your step. The ground can be a bit uneven,” he cautioned. They walked up a small hill, and then Cullen’s eyes lit up. “It’s just as I remembered,” he said pointing to a lake that was nestled in the valley. The Frostbacks glinted in the distance as the water reflected the blue skies and clouds above. A small wooden pier jutted into the lake at the end of the narrow dirt trail Cullen and Nehn were following.

Taking Nehn’s hand, Cullen led her down the path and walked with her to the end of the pier. Both Nehn and Cullen quietly absorbed the lake’s serenity as Nehn leaned against Cullen side as he wrapped an arm protectively around her back. After a few minutes of reflection, Cullen released Nehn and turned to face her.

“I brought you here to share my past and ask that you always be a part of my future,” he said solemnly before taking her hands in his own. “Nehn, you are the most remarkable woman I’ve ever known. You bring me immeasurable joy, and I would be honored to spend the rest of my life showing you how very grateful I am to love and be loved by you. Would you please be my wife?”

Nehn had started crying the moment she realized that he was proposing, so the best she could manage was a squeaky, “Yes,” accompanied by a flurry of happy bounces. Cullen beamed as he reached into his pocket.

“This isn’t a traditional betrothal present, but we’re far from a traditional couple,” he said as he presented her with a coin which had been made into a charm. “I thought you could add it to your necklace,” he continued hopefully.

“A coin?” Nehn asked unsure of its symbolism. She threaded the charm on her necklace nonetheless and patted it to her chest.

“My brother gave it to me right before I left for templar training. He claimed it was for luck. I’ve kept it all these years even though templars aren’t supposed to rely on anything more than faith for reassurance. I can think of nothing that better symbolizes the hope you have given me and the certainty that I will always carry you in my thoughts and heart.”

Nehn flung her arms around his neck enthusiastically upon hearing his reasoning. Unfortunately, Cullen wasn’t expecting her embrace and lost his footing sending both of them falling into the lake. They bobbed in the water, chilled and laughing, before coming together and kissing passionately while treading water.

“This might be easier on shore,” Cullen said as he wiped a wet tendril of hair out of Nehn’s eye. “Race you,” he said before dunking her under the water and getting a head start.

Nehn came up cursing and fade stepped to the shore before Cullen reached it. “Don’t tell me I cheated,” she said while waggling a finger at him. “You’re the one shoving people under the water to gain an advantage.”

Cullen came out of the water sopping wet and scooped Nehn into his arms. “I admit defeat and throw myself on your mercy,” he teasingly pleaded. 

“That, my love, sounds quite promising,” Nehn cooed before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him once more.


	104. Chapter 104

A small grin crossed Nehn’s face when she heard Cullen begin mumbling orders in his sleep. As he barked “You have a shield - use it!”, Nehn bit her lip to keep from laughing and waking him. _Cullen can go on vacation, but he’ll still try to work even if it’s only in the Fade,_ she thought while adding a log to the fire.

Stretching her arms and arching her back, Nehn wished that her mind would slow down. It had been racing since earlier that day when Cullen proposed marriage. The thought of trying to plan a wedding overwhelmed her - especially when she considered that she wanted to get married before Sylvia’s baby arrived. 

_The baby is due in a little less than four months,_ she calculated. _Perhaps we should wait until after the baby arrives... No, I want to be able to concentrate on the little one and Sylvia. Being a new mother is difficult, and Sylvia is such a worrier... So the wedding has to happen first. Maybe Cullen would elope? But would we still get cake if we did that? I really want cake. Hmm...._

“Are you still awake?” Cullen asked groggily while sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Do you think we could still have a party with cake if we eloped?” Nehn asked while looking over her shoulder at Cullen.

“Umm... probably? But I’d rather not elope, Nehn. Our friends and family would be disappointed - Dorian especially. He’s already planning the wedding,” Cullen yawned.

“Really? Or are you joking? I can’t tell,” Nehn said anxiously. 

“A little of both. When I told him that I would be proposing to you on this trip, he predicted that you would become a frantic at the prospect of organizing a wedding, and he offered his assistance. I thought he was being ridiculous. Evidently, I was wrong,” Cullen said while looking miserably sleepy.

“So Dorian is willing to handle all the details? Disaster averted!” Nehn chirped as she skipped across the room and hopped into bed.

“You’re just going to delegate everything to Dorian?” Cullen quizzed skeptically.

“I’m sure he’ll have to coordinate with Josie, but yes that is exactly what I intend to do... with two exceptions, of course.”

“Your dress and the cake,” Cullen predicted.

“See - this is why I’m marrying you. You know me so well,” Nehn smiled.

“But don’t you want to choose the decorations? What about the location? The guest list? The officiant? The menu for the reception? The seating arrangements? The wines? The band?” Cullen rattled off.

“If both you and a cake are there, I’m set,” Nehn said emphatically. “But it seems to me that _you_ might perhaps want to have more input. Why don’t you coordinate the wedding with Josie and Dorian’s help? You’ve launched successful large scale assaults on Adamant Fortress and the Arbor Wilds. I’m sure you can manage a little party planning.”

“You don’t think that would be... odd?” Cullen questioned.

“Anyone who knows me recognizes that I’m not detail oriented. You on the other hand, are the very definition of meticulous. This _should_ be the only wedding you’ll ever have, Commander. You might as well have it just as you’d want it.”

“So you’ll trust me to choose everything - excluding your dress and the cake?” Cullen clarified. He would never be able to cede so much control were he in her position.

“Yes,” Nehn said while fluffing her pillow and the settling down under the covers with a contented sigh.

“What’s our timetable?” Cullen asked sounding every bit the strategist.

“Before Syl’s baby arrives,” Nehn said sleepily.

“That’s only four months or so,” Cullen fretted.

“You’d better make it three. The baby might come early,” Nehn advised before closing her eyes and dozing off. When she awoke the next morning, Cullen was hunched over the cabin’s only table deep in thought. Nehn snuck out of bed and snuggled up to him before surveying the table. It was covered in notes written in Cullen’s blocky script. “Planning your assault on the institution of marriage, Commander?” Nehn cajoled. “Did you get _any_ rest last night?”

“I just wanted to get my thoughts organized before I enlisted anyone’s help,” Cullen replied while studying his notes with the same intensity as he took in a battle map. “I’ve identified two potential obstacles to our success. Once those are addressed, I feel confident that we can proceed with little resistance.”

Nehn clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing at his sounding exactly as he did when discussing war strategy as he was planning their wedding. “Two obstacles?” Nehn asked in her best Inquisitor voice once she had reined in her urge to giggle.

“The most troublesome is our marriage is currently prohibited throughout all countries in southern Thedas in deference to standing Chantry doctrine related to mages,” he noted. “We could go to Tevinter, but support for the Inquisition isn’t as widespread there -not to mention that travel costs and logistics would be a nightmare. I’ve considered your idea of a marriage at sea as well, but I get dreadfully seasick even in calm water. There may still be a solution... In Ferelden and Orlais, there are precedents of some nobles with magic being granted exemptions and being allowed to marry.”

“They paid someone off,” Nehn surmised. “I’m not giving anyone - especially the Chantry- bribe money. I’m the head of state in Inquisition owned lands, if I say I can get married then I can. We’ll just have to have the wedding at Skyhold or one of our keeps,” Nehn said authoritatively. “Besides Leliana is likely to become the next Divine, and she plans to grant mages equal rights. We’re just speeding up the timetable really.”

“That’s actually... brilliant,” Cullen said thoughtfully. 

“Aren’t you glad to have me around?” Nehn smiled while elbowing Cullen. “So what is our second obstacle, Commander?” she quizzed.

“One that you had already identified ... the officiant. Those that have the authority to marry us will not for reasons previously discussed,” he said while grabbing the back of his neck.

“Morrigan pointed out that there isn’t a need for someone to lead the ceremony. We’re perfectly capable of saying our vows to each other ourselves. It might be nice to have someone do a few readings, but we don’t really need a cleric,” Nehn explained.

Cullen pushed away from the table and put his arms about Nehn’s waist, “In that case, I can see nothing except a few piddly details preventing you from becoming the next Mrs. Rutherford.”

“Inquisitor Rutherford? And here I thought you’d become Commander Lavellan,” Nehn teased but Cullen missed her jest.

“I suppose I could consider that,” he said hesitantly as he again grabbed at the back of his neck.

“I’m joking, silly. Although Garel might be a bit peeved with the idea of my dropping his name. You’ll just have to hash it out with him when you meet in the Beyond some day,” Nehn bantered.

“You do have children with him,” Cullen considered. “Perhaps you should hyphenate.”

“Inquisitor Lavellan-Rutherford? That is too much of a mouthful. Maybe I should just return to my maiden name and confuse everyone,” Nehn said with a wink.

“What _was_ your maiden name?” Cullen asked with interest. “It never crossed my mind to ask. Was it Raleferin?”

“Good memory. That _was_ my clan, but my family name was Sylain. And for the record, _Nehn_ is a diminutive. My maiden name amongst the Dalish would have been Sulahn’nehn Vir’Numin Sylain of Clan Raleferin. Once I became Deshanna’s apprentice, I was Sulahn’nehn Vir’Numin Sylain, First of Clan Lavellan born to Clan Raleferin. Only once I married into the clan did I get to drop the Raleferin qualifier.”

“And Inquisitor Lavellan-Rutherford is too much of a mouthful?” Cullen chuckled. “Your name is very pretty, though - melodic even. Does it mean anything?”

“It roughly translates _Sing joyfully along the path of tears_. A very elven moniker, good and broody,” Nehn grinned. “My sister had it worse. Her name would mean _Be thankful in sorrow._ Our parents were a bit pessimistic.”

“Perhaps they just hoped their daughters would be resilient,” Cullen commented then took a stab at Nehn’s name, “Soo lahn nayn veer nu meen?”

“That’s pretty close,” Nehn approved. “Your inflection was a tad off, but you did well for your first try.”

“I need to get it down pat before the ceremony,” Cullen said before jotting a note on how to enunciate her name.

“You’re adorable when you’re strategizing,” Nehn gushed. “This little vein pops out on your temple, and your eyes narrow as if you were sighting a target. But I think you can set aside your planning for today. You promised to show me around Honnleath,” she reminded.

“That I did. I wonder if I’ll recognize anyone. I’ve been gone for ages, and so many died or relocated after the Blight.”

“How did your siblings manage to survive?” Nehn asked.

“When Ostagar fell, my parents sent them to stay with relatives in South Reach. Mama and Pop stayed behind with the farm. My father loved the land, and my mother loved him,” Cullen said quietly. “From all accounts, they saved the lives of many townsfolk before they fell. Mama was handy with poultices and healing herbs, and Pop had served in Maric’s rebellion. When the war ended, Maric granted some of his men land in recognition for their exemplary service. That’s how my family became freeholders.”

“Soldiering is in your blood then.”

“I suppose it is. My father was the hardest to convince when I wanted to become a templar though. He knew what war was and wanted a different life for me. It disappointed him that I didn’t want to take over the farm,” Cullen said with a strained voice as he stared at the floor.

“I’ve no doubt he’d be proud of what you’ve accomplished, Cullen,” Nehn reassured while patting him on the arm.

“If I had been home to help fight the darkspawn instead of trapped in Kinloch Hold...”

“You would have likely died as well. If you hadn’t become a templar, the Inquisition would be missing its military leader, and I would be without you. Everything happens for a reason, or at least that’s what I tell myself. It helps to think that when you wake up one morning chained in a Chantry basement with a glowing hand.”

“I never officially apologized for my part in that. I am sorry that we misjudged you so grievously,” Cullen said while rubbing Nehn’s upper arm.

“It was a logical conclusion based on the evidence you had at the time. I’ve long since forgiven it. Now there is an important question that needs to be addressed, however,” Nehn said solemnly.

“Which is?”

“Which tavern in Honnleath serves the best breakfast? I’m starving and not in the mood to cook.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for RedHawkeRevolver for putting the thought in my mind of Cullen planning the wedding. I can't wait to see him knee deep in tulle and guest lists...


	105. Chapter 105

The Inquisition messenger arrived on the morning of the sixth day of their vacation. Nehn refused to answer the door when she saw Leliana’s agent through the window and instead climbed back into bed. “Maybe he’ll just go away if we stay quiet,” she whispered to Cullen who shook his head. After pulling on his trousers and shirt, Cullen opened the door to see what news the courier brought. Not wanting to be drawn into Inquisition business, Nehn buried herself beneath the covers and held her breath. _Maybe he’s just here to tell us everything is peachy and not to feel in a rush to return,_ Nehn hoped.

A few minutes later, Cullen sat down on the bed and placed his hand gently on the tangle of covers that sheltered Nehn. “Don’t say it,” she begged in a muffled voice from inside her blanket fort. Cullen patted the lump he guessed was Nehn’s back (although it was hard to be certain with how deeply she had burrowed into the quilts) and cleared his throat before informing her that they were needed at Skyhold.

“No, we aren’t,” she protested from beneath the covers. 

“Unfortunately, rumors have started circulating that you were killed or gravely injured in the battle against Corypheus. You need to make an appearance to reassure our allies,” Cullen explained.

“Now that’s just a load of halla dung,” Nehn snarled from beneath the covers. “Any member of my inner circle can verify that I’m alive and well.”

“Their word won’t satisfy the conspiracy theorists. Even without this issue, we’d need to head back soon,” Cullen said evenly.

“But we haven’t even been gone a week,” Nehn whined as she flung off her blankets and put on her robe. The messenger who had been uncomfortably standing in the doorway awaiting orders stumbled backwards apologizing and red-faced for having caught a glimpse of Nehn in her thin nightclothes. 

“You could have told me he was still there,” Nehn hissed as she tied her robe.

“He drew the short straw getting this assignment,” Cullen snickered. “At least he caught a nice view for his troubles.”

“A few days off, and you turn into a comedian,” Nehn snarked while rolling her eyes. “Where’s the growly possessive guy who has a love/hate relationship with my leathers?”

“He’s feeling rather smug that soon there won’t be a doubt in anyone’s mind that you are absolutely and entirely his,” Cullen smirked.

“As if there could be any doubt about that. Rumor has it I’m positively smitten with you and have been for quite some time,” Nehn flirted as she put her arms about Cullen’s neck.

“Now that is the type of rumor I like,” Cullen smiled before kissing Nehn. After pulling away, he announced, “We need to get dressed and packed.”

“Why don’t we send word with the messenger that we’ll be returning and spend one more day here?” Nehn bargained while sliding her hand down Cullen’s chest suggestively.

Cullen swatted her backside playfully before intimating that she was nearly as bad as a desire demon.

“Is that a _no_ , Commander?” she questioned while coyly letting her hands trail lower.

“I’ll write the message,” Cullen answered abruptly while Nehn celebrated her triumph over Cullen’s sense of duty.

********************

The weeks after their return to Skyhold were filled with a flurry of activity. Cullen spent his days reorganizing the Inquisition’s forces and his evenings wedding planning with Dorian and Josephine. Once Asha discovered Cullen was in charge of the wedding details, she appointed herself his personal assistant and spent her after school hours taking notes, addressing invitations, and running errands. She also got the idea to convert the bedroom above Cullen’s office into a marriage command center since he rarely slept there anymore. After Cullen agreed to repurpose his bedroom, Asha hounded Gatsi until he fixed the roof, so their seating charts and decoration samples wouldn’t get blown about or rained on.

Cullen planned the wedding with the same precision and decisiveness he showed in battle. Within two weeks, he had the venue (Suledin Keep), the guest lists (a small collection of family and friends for the ceremony itself and a large assortment of Inquisition members and supporters for the reception), the menu (a combination of Ferelden and Dalish entrees with Orleasian appetizers and Antivan wines), the flowers (made of silk and paper in deference to Nehn’s allergies), the songs (instrumental versions of melodies common to Dalish and Andrastian wedding ceremonies), and the readings (portions of love poems chosen with Cassandra’s assistance) selected. He then set about handling seating arrangements, approving table decorations, and seeing to the attire of members of the wedding party with aplomb.

Nehn was thoroughly occupied (and absolutely miserable) receiving visiting nobles who wanted to congratulate the Inquisition’s success, donate to its coffers, and bend her ear. When she had the opportunity, Nehn would slip away from her guests, and hide out in Cullen’s old bedroom while sewing clothes or crocheting blankets in anticipation of Sylvia’s baby’s arrival while Dorian, Josephine, and Cullen calmly went over wedding details. True to her word, Nehn left Cullen completely in charge of the ceremony with the exception of her dress and the cake, and it was a good thing she did as she became more paralyzed by indecision with each passing day. 

The Inquisitor’s search for the perfect cake turned into its own beast as Nehn’s latent perfectionism and generalized anxiety made her exceptionally difficult to please and slightly irrational. Initially, all of her friends wanted to participate in the tastings, but her insistence that they fill out comment cards on each cake and her perseverating on minutiae related to fondant meant that after a week her Cake Committee had dwindled down to only Fenris, Iron Bull, and herself. Cullen had thrown in the towel after the second tasting session when Nehn insisted that “yummy” wasn’t an adequate descriptor and that he needed to revise his comment cards. Bull’s years spent preparing detailed Ben-Hassrath reports inured him to Nehn’s nuttiness as long as the sweets kept coming. Fenris, for his part, seemed to enjoy critiquing the baked goods almost as much as he liked dissecting the bouquet and palate of wines. Nehn and Fenris would spend ages debating the flavor and balance of the cakes while Bull contentedly gobbled up the leftovers. After three weeks of near nightly tastings, Nehn was no closer to picking out a cake, and Bull found he had to buy a larger belt.

Nehn’s search for a dress went no better. Belle Sims had members of her Trader’s Guild bring options from all over Thedas, but Nehn couldn’t decide amongst them. A month and a half before their wedding, Cullen found her one afternoon sobbing atop a mountain of tulle, lace, and silk dresses in their bedroom. After she suggested that she might simply wear her beige leathers to the ceremony, Cullen went through the dresses and narrowed down her choices before making a mental note to ask Dorian to help her make her final decision. 

Cullen was flummoxed by Nehn’s indecision as she never hesitated when making calls on behalf of the Inquisition or her children. The more he thought about it, the more he grew concerned that perhaps she didn’t want to marry him. Rather than letting that idea stew in his head, he decided to ask her directly later that night. When she emerged from her bath that evening, Cullen was working up the nerve to ask her when Nehn noticed his upset.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

Cullen sighed, “I just wondered if... perhaps you were having second thoughts about the wedding?”

“What in the world gave you that idea?” Nehn asked incredulously.

“It’s just that...” Cullen paused and grabbed at the back of his neck while trying to piece together his thoughts, “You make history changing decisions as Inquisitor with little trouble, but you haven’t been able to pin down anything related to our wedding even after delegating nearly all of the responsibilities. It makes me wonder if you are getting cold feet and simply don’t know how to tell me.”

“No, not at all. I _want_ to be with you, and I _want_ to be your wife... its just... these types of choices have always been hard for me. Things that are important but not life or death... I mean look at Asha’s name for gods’ sakes,” Nehn answered while pacing across the room.

“I’m not following you,” Cullen admitted.

“In our clan, it is tradition that fathers name their sons, and mothers their daughters. I spent most of my pregnancy coming up with lists of meaningful names or those that celebrated women important in elven history. When Asha arrived though, I couldn’t make up my mind, so we just called her _asha_ in the meantime. Eventually it stuck.”

“Asha is a pretty name, though,” Cullen said with obvious confusion.

“ _Asha_ isn’t a name. It just means _girl_. I couldn’t pick a real name. Her name is the equivalent of calling your mabari _dog_. Every time I’d come close to choosing her name, I’d start to panic that it wouldn’t be a good match or it might lead to a untoward nickname or...” Nehn started hyperventilating as she recalled the process.

“It’s alright, love. I understand now," Cullen responded as he folded Nehn in his arms. “You want it to be perfect so badly that you can’t reach a decision.” Nehn nodded her head and started sobbing.

“I thought if I cut it down to just picking my dress and the cake that I could manage it, but I’m not sure I can even do that. And now I’ve got you thinking that I don’t love you when I do... And I want to marry you more than anything, but I’ll probably have to go down the aisle naked at this point,” Nehn cried.

“It won’t come to that. I’ll have Dorian help you pick your dress. As for the cake, have you narrowed it down at all?” Cullen quizzed.

“I’ve got six that I really like,” Nehn answered while snubbing.

“Then make the cake have six tiers - one with each kind,” Cullen suggested, and Nehn started to bounce with excitement.

“That’ll work!” she nearly screamed with excitement before hugging Cullen vigorously. “You have to promise me one thing, though.”

“What’s that?” Cullen asked.

“That if and when we have children you’ll name them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be taking off on a vacation with Mr. Spice on Sunday (just the two of us -squeal), so it will be at least a week before my next update.


	106. Chapter 106

When Nehn entered the war room for their council meeting, she was unnerved to see Cullen and Leliana shouting at one another. Although the two often disagreed as to the best course of action, they rarely raised their voices. Both stopped speaking and started glaring at each other as soon as they realized Nehn had entered.

“Something I should know?” Nehn quizzed.

Cullen’s eyes narrowed at Leliana as his hand rested on the pommel of his sword. Leliana returned his animus with icy coolness as she turned to Nehn and said, “The Commander doesn’t want me delivering a recent report from Scout Harding to you.”

“That is not what I said at all,” Cullen growled as several veins popped out on his neck and forehead. “What I said is it could be brought before her _later_.”

“And when would you suggest that, Commander? After your wedding? After her grandchild arrives? Or perhaps even later --- hmmm? ” Leliana snipped. “Just because Corypheus’ threat has ended doesn’t mean the need for the Inquisitor’s unique skills has diminished or that she won’t have to leave your side from time to time.”

“Enough talking around the issue...” Nehn declared angrily. “What in the Creators’ names is going on?” she asked before smacking her hand on the table for emphasis. Josephine, who was usually punctual, entered the room just as the map markers in Southern Ferelden danced from the force of Nehn whacking the table. The ambassador quickly skittered to her place at the table and pretended to be absorbed in her notes while trying to make sense of the ruckus.

Leliana smiled triumphantly at Cullen and then began to debrief Nehn. “As you may remember, the Inquisition agreed to help a researcher from the University of Orlais who was investigating the disappearance of the last Inquisitor, Ameridan, some eight hundred years ago. We provided him with a small contingent of scouts to help him navigate the Frostback Basin.”

“Yes, what of it?” Nehn asked.

“The area is quite unstable. Some of our scouts have been killed by local Avaar upset by our presence. They have also detected a number of fade rifts...” Leliana continued, but Nehn could already see where the spymaster was headed.

“And you think I should go there now to deal with the rifts and try to appease the natives. You do realize I’m to be married in six weeks,” Nehn said pointedly.

“I do, but I also know that you can reach the Basin within three days time, and that you and your team were able to settle problems in the Exalted Plains and Emprise du Lion within equally tight timeframes. You will have to address the rifts eventually. No one else is equipped to do so. You have an opportunity to take care of this now, so your family time won’t be interrupted later,” Leliana argued.

Nehn didn’t need to ask Cullen’s opinion on whether she should leave. The murderous stare he was leveling at Leliana told her all she needed to know. Letting her eyes travel to Josephine, she could tell the ambassador was torn and hoping to avoid weighing in. “Josie, what do you think?” Nehn asked putting her on the spot.

“Your wedding _is_ quickly approaching, and we’ve put a great deal of effort into it,” Josephine said while nodding at Cullen. “Changing the date is out of the question. We have kings, queens, and nobility from throughout Thedas that have cleared their schedules to be present for the ceremony.”

“Thank you,” Cullen said sarcastically while gesticulating at the ceiling with an open hand before resuming glaring at Leliana.

Josephine paused and looked uneasy before continuing, “However, many of those people will need to travel through the southern Frostbacks to reach Suledin Keep. If the region is as unstable as Leliana suggests, we may have to address it sooner than later. The Inquisition can’t expect wedding guests to fight through Avaar and demons to attend the ceremony.”

Cullen looked like he had been utterly betrayed by Josephine and let out a disgusted grunt before speaking, “Then allow me to send additional forces to the region to quell the Avaar. There is no reason that the Inquisitor needs to go.”

Nehn knew Cullen only wanted to protect her, but she also knew he was wrong about her not being needed. “Cullen, if there are fade rifts...” she began quietly, and he threw his hands in the air with exasperation.

“There will always be fade rifts and unstable areas in the Veil. Even with Corypheus gone and few Venatori remaining to actively open rifts, new ones will appear on battlefields or in areas where magic was misused. Why is every rift suddenly your problem?” he questioned agitatedly.

“Because I can fix them,” Nehn replied while holding up her marked hand. Glancing at Leliana and Josephine, she asked to speak with Cullen privately. Leliana and Josephine filed out of the war room silently while Nehn walked over to Cullen and put a hand to his chest.

“What’s going on? You’ve always been cautious about where I travel, but it isn’t like you to ignore obvious threats. The Basin is close enough to Skyhold that I’d need to deal with the rifts even if we didn’t have them disrupting routes through the mountains. I’ve closed scores of rifts with little difficulty. Why is this worrying you now?” Nehn asked while searching Cullen’s face for clues to his distress.

“We’re so close, Nehn. Close to starting our life together. Close to having some semblance of normality. I’m terrified something will happen and take that away. It was easier for me to justify the risks you had to take when all of Thedas was threatened. Now... it seems as if we’re tempting fate,” he admitted while his voice cracked slightly with emotion.

“I will come back to you. I promise,” Nehn said while caressing his face.

“With Solas gone...” Cullen started and then chuckled at the absurdity of what he was about to admit. “I know its odd given your past relationship, but I trusted that Solas would take care of you in the field as I would - better in fact. I can’t put barriers about you or perform healing spells. Dorian is a powerful necromancer, but he isn’t much of a healer. And I’m concerned that if he had to choose between Bull and you ...”

“You think Dorian would let a demon eat me rather than Bull? Bull is much meatier... he’d be considerably more satisfying entree. I’m hardly an amuse bouche by comparison,” Nehn said with a wink. “But you are right about one thing. I need another mage to replace Solas on my team. How about this compromise? I won’t leave for the Frostbacks until I’ve found a suitable replacement.”

“There’s no stopping you, so slowing you down is the best I can hope for,” Cullen sighed. “Do you have anyone in mind? Helaine perhaps? Please don’t say you’re considering the Fade addled mage that wanted to teach you rift magic. I know that was Solas’ specialty, but...”

“No, I wasn’t thinking of either of them. Asha would pitch a fit if I took Helaine from her. She just started working with her spectral sword this month, and _Your Trainer_ or whatever her name is ... well, she’s too out there even for me. I’ll ask around and see if anyone has a recommendation. It certainly won’t be Fiona even though I’m sure you’d love for me to get her out of your hair,” Nehn teased.

“Maker, that woman...” Cullen started and just shook his head. “That does give me an idea though, but I doubt you’d like it.”

“Don’t leave me in suspense,” Nehn said with raised eyebrows.

“We received a letter from Enchanter Vivienne congratulating the Inquisition on its success and again offering her services to us. I assume she’s scrambling to stay relevant now that it appears that the Circles are unlikely to re-form. She is, however, an astoundingly capable mage as well as a rather talented healer.”

“Are you talking about that manipulative, horned hat wearing witch I met just outside Val Royeaux? The one that froze one of her own dinner guests?” Nehn asked in sheer disbelief.

“I believe that I am, yes. She is a political animal, no doubt, but she would be a formidable ally,” Cullen contended.

“Or a terrible enemy. She’s absolutely ruthless,” Nehn added.

“All the more reason to keep close tabs on her - especially as the Chantry revises its take on mages,” Cullen suggested. “As a Loyalist, she would want the Circles restored. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind keeping her ideas from reaching the ears of the next Divine.”

“Commander, you sounded positively Orleasian just then. Is Leliana rubbing off on you?” Nehn jested.

“Simply because I generally prefer a more direct approach doesn’t mean that I don’t understand political machinations or their applications,” Cullen smirked while coiling his arms around Nehn.

********************  
Enchanter Vivienne jumped at the chance to meet with Nehn even traveling through an eluvian to reach Skyhold quickly. Nehn’s opinion of the enchanter who wore her hair closely cropped to her head was largely unchanged. She didn’t trust Vivienne, but she also recognized her prodigious magical and political acumen. _So I replace one shifty but exceptionally talented bald mage with another. I suppose that’s a zero sum game,_ Nehn thought before offering Vivienne a place in her inner circle.

Vivienne accepted with haughty glee acting as if she was doing Nehn a great favor. Nehn was nonplussed and didn’t feel the least bit indebted to the enchanter. _She’d be skulking the halls of the Winter Palace looking for a new patron if she weren’t here,_ Nehn thought while consciously avoiding giving the slightest indication that she saw through Vivienne. Nehn thanked the enchanter profusely while sizing her up quickly. _Prideful but truly gifted at manipulating others as well as the Fade. She really is a good substitute for Solas,_ Nehn decided.

Eager to quickly deal with the Avaar threat and rifts in the Frostback Basin, Nehn and her team left Skyhold immediately after welcoming Vivienne into their numbers. Nehn stayed quieter than usual on the trip wanting to gauge her friends’ reactions to the enchanter. Cassandra seemed to respect Vivienne but clearly didn’t trust her. Fenris hated her if only on principle although Nehn was amused to note that Vivienne’s views on mages echoed his. Both felt that mages were dangerous beings needing tight control. Cole tried to be friendly, but the enchanter shut down his efforts by asking Nehn to keep her “pet demon” from addressing her. Cole had looked around in confusion for the demon when he heard Vivienne’s words and then sadly shrunk to the back of their caravan when he realized her words were in reference to him.

Sera was unimpressed with Vivienne’s arrogant demeanor and condescending attitude. “Right twat that one,” Sera whispered to Nehn. “Acts like she’s all noble but she’s as common as they come under the finery and put on accent.” Nehn nodded her agreement. Zevran rolled his eyes whenever Vivienne spoke and wasn’t looking at him but was obsequious and effusive otherwise. Dorian seemed to enjoy discussing magic and fashion with Vivienne, but Nehn caught that the smiles he gave her never quite reached his eyes. Varric, who could charm almost anyone, got along with Vivienne although Nehn noticed he didn’t invite her to join in any of their card games around the campfire. After their three day journey, Nehn was satisfied that her friends largely shared her opinion of Vivienne - that she was likely to be useful on the battlefield but a pain in the ass otherwise. 

Only Bull’s reaction to the new mage left Nehn surprised. After having a few playful attempts at banter with Vivienne shut down by her caustic attitude, Bull became oddly deferential to her. Nehn overheard him commenting to Dorian that she reminded him of the tamassrans who had raised him - strict disciplinarians who brooked no resistance. It made Nehn sad seeing Bull jump through hoops to please Vivienne, but he almost appeared to enjoy being ordered about. _Must be a Qunari thing or those damned horned hats she wears are making him homesick,_ Nehn thought as she bit the inside of her cheek seeing Vivienne relish the control she had over the giant man.

Scout Harding greeted them at the largest of the Inquisition camps that was in the Basin. Nehn hugged her before pulling out her necklace and showing off the engagement present Cullen had given her. Harding seemed genuinely happy to hear news of the wedding and promised to come to the ceremony “assuming I’m invited” she added with a nervous laugh. 

“Of course you are,” Nehn laughed. “How could I not have my favorite female dwarf there to cheer me on?”

Harding blushed at Nehn’s compliment and then began reporting on the situation in the Basin. It was every bit as bad as Leliana had said in the war room. Nehn shifted uncomfortably as she wondered if she’d be able to resolve things before she had to leave to get married. _You have to at least try. Otherwise, you’ll be spending your honeymoon back in these godsforsaken mountains,_ Nehn reminded herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I said it would be a week but a DLC clip was leaked that showed Solas!!!! This is my celebratory gift. SQUEAL! I'm so happy I could just faint.


	107. Chapter 107

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter has limited spoilers for Jaws of Hakkon.

Nehn chewed on her fingernails and stared into the fire trying to make sense of everything she had learned the past few weeks. Ameridan, the last Inquisitor, had been an elven mage just like her but every reference to his heritage and gifts had been removed from history. _I wonder how long it will be before I’m sanitized into an acceptable package? And I’m helping the process... removing my vallaslin, marrying a human... Gods!_ Nehn thought as she pressed her hands against her temples.

Dorian sat beside her and took her hand. “Look at what you’ve done to your nails. You’ve gnawed them down to nubs. We’ve almost got this mess behind us, and you’re moping. What’s going on in that precious head of yours?”

Nehn sighed. “Meeting Inquisitor Ameridan. He was an _elf_... a _mage_ , and we knew nothing of it. Had he not gotten trapped how different would history have been? He would have rallied the elves to fight the Second Blight. The Exalted Marches might never have happened. Relations between mages and templars might have been completely different. The entire world would have been affected.”

“Perhaps. But that doesn’t explain your pouting and massacring your manicure,” Dorian probed.

“What if I’ve missed an opportunity? What if I die before I can cause lasting change? Will I end up a footnote in history with my entire identity whitewashed?” Nehn questioned.

“I must say that when you choose to brood you do it most spectacularly,” Dorian observed before looking at Nehn directly. “You’ve never seemed particularly concerned with your legacy before. Is that why you fought Corypheus or these Hakkonite brutes - to gain acclaim?” 

“Of course not. I did it because someone had to and no one else could,” Nehn replied.

“Exactly. I wouldn’t have traipsed all over Southern Thedas with you otherwise. You can’t control how the world perceives you - not now and certainly not 800 years from now. Forget them. Your friends, your family... we know you. We love you. In the end, that’s what matters, what lasts.”

Chastened by his words, Nehn began crying against Dorian’s shoulder. “Ugh, really?” Dorian protested with revulsion. “You’re going to get snot all over my imported leathers. Pull yourself together, woman. I’m a Tevinter not a handkerchief.”

Nehn sat up and wiped away her tears. “You never let me get away with self-indulgent pity parties.”

“And why should I? Crying and frowning make ugly wrinkles,” Dorian teased. “You have to think about these things... you will be a grandmother soon.”

Nehn beamed at the mention of Sylvia’s baby. “I can’t wait to hold him.”

“Him? Are you sure it will be a boy?” Dorian quizzed.

“The way she’s carrying the baby and the foods she’s preferring all point to my getting a grandson. Cole always refers to the baby as _he_ , too,” Nehn explained.

“Cole can mind read a fetus?” Dorian questioned while shaking his head.

“Cole told Sylvia that the baby likes it when she sings to him. Syl made herself hoarse humming lullabies after hearing that,” Nehn said proudly and then became melancholy.

“You’re getting broody on me again...” Dorian chided.

“I’ve missed so much of their lives. Did you know Asha turned ten last week? Her name day is two days after mine. I haven’t been with her to celebrate the past two years. To make matters worse, Falon’s girlfriend broke up with him at Asha’s party. His first real heartache, and I’m off chasing Avaar.” Nehn let out a frustrated breath and leaned back on her elbows. 

“Falon got dumped? By that dull little medic? The nerve!” Dorian nearly shouted he was so incensed. “And to break things off at a birthday party? Tacky.”

“I know- right?” Nehn agreed. “Her loss.”

“What are you hens clucking about?” Bull asked as he stretched out beside Nehn. “It better be how we’re going to kick that dragon abomination’s ass tomorrow.”

“Because discussing how we’re going to take on yet another dragon is so riveting,” Dorian huffed. “Besides I’ll be stuck at the edges of the fight maintaining barriers on you oafs that insist on getting up close. It isn’t as if a well-timed elemental spell can’t be every bit as destructive as all of your hacking and slashing.”

“Yeah, but magic is just so antiseptic. Dragon fighting should mean bathing yourself in smoke and blood. Teetering on the brink of death... not standing at range, shooting off spells, and avoiding mussing your hair, Kadan,” Bull teased while tousling Dorian’s perfectly coifed hair.

“You’ll leave my hair alone if you want me to remember to keep a barrier on you,” Dorian growled while combing it back into place with his fingers. 

“With the wedding just days away, I think I’ll be joining Dorian at the periphery. Vivienne can have my spot up front,” Nehn stated.

“I bet you wouldn’t mind it if the dragon just happened to sit on her,” Dorian needled.

“She is a very talented mage,” Nehn replied as if reciting a mantra.

“How many times a day do you have to remind yourself of that?” Dorian snickered. “We’re all waiting for you to lose your cool with her. What’s holding you back?”

Nehn gritted her teeth. “I’m trying to be the bigger person.”

“Keep fighting the good fight, Boss,” Bull chuckled. “Or should I say, _dah-ling_ ,” he added winking his good eye.

“Oh gods, don’t you dare start calling me that. I’m quite convinced every time she calls me _darling_ she’s mentally saying _simpleton_ in her head. Ugh!” Nehn said while closing her eyes and shivering with irritation. “That woman gets on my last nerve, but I’ll be damned if I let her know it.”

“That’s my girl,” Dorian praised. “Word of advice - you may want to lay off on rolling your eyes every time she speaks. It kind of gives you away.”

“I would have never guessed,” Nehn deadpanned.

“So, Boss, do you think Cullen will make it down here in time to help with the dragon?” Bull questioned while looking past Nehn with a sly grin.

“I certainly hope not. I love the man, but he spends too much time behind a desk to just jump in a fight with a dragon,” Nehn said emphatically while Bull and Dorian looked mortified. Detecting a familiar aura, Nehn bit her lip and then said, “He’s right behind me- isn’t he?” She hesitantly turned around and gave Cullen an apologetic shrug.

“So you think I’m not in fighting form?” Cullen asked with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.

“I... uh... you see... what I meant was...” Nehn backpedalled. 

“That’s alright. I agree with you. I’ve never battled a dragon, and I doubt starting off with one infused with the spirit of an Avaar god would be the best idea. Although my ego is a bit bruised to hear you thinking of me as a flabby paper pusher,” Cullen scolded.

“Flabby is not a word I’d use at all. You just don’t see much combat that isn’t with practice swords. Not that I want you in more real battles... I should really just shut up now,” Nehn stammered.

“Might be a good choice,” Cullen smirked. “Is there any chance you’d allow this out-of-shape bureaucrat to take you for a walk?”

“A walk in the woods?” Nehn asked with a devious glint in her eye. “You know I’m always up for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nehn really stepped in it - didn't she? Girlfriend needs to check behind her before talking smack.


	108. Chapter 108

Cullen put an arm around Nehn as he walked her away from camp. “I’m exhausted just reading Scout Harding’s reports on your activities here. Do you think you should rest more before tackling the dragon? It hasn’t made any show of wanting to leave the area.”

“Well, there’s this small matter of our wedding. The last thing I want to do is have to come back here as a newlywed, although Thane Sun-Hair _has_ offered us accommodations typically reserved for couples after their knotting if necessary.”

“Knotting?”

“Avaar don’t marry for life. They marry for as many years as knots a groom can untie while his bride sings a marriage melody.”

“I would need some very loose knots and a very long song if that were our tradition,” Cullen remarked then kissed Nehn on the top of her head. “I am much happier with the idea of being by your side from this day forward.”

“Me, too,” Nehn answered while cuddling closer to his side. “As beautiful as the Frostback Basin can be, I can’t wait to leave for Suledin Keep. How goes the efforts to remove the red lyrium in the region?”

“The area immediately around the Keep is cleared, but the Emprise is still riddled with red lyrium. Empress Celene and Josephine hope that more nobles will dedicate funds to the reclamation efforts after seeing the problem first hand when they visit the province for our wedding.”

“Is that why you chose Suledin rather than Skyhold for the ceremony?”

“No, with the river thawed and roads cleared, Suledin is more accessible than Skyhold - not to mention larger. I also wasn’t fond of the idea of having that many people in our home,” Cullen explained.

“Our home... I like the sound of that. Maybe when _this_ dragon is dead I can hang up my adventuring hat. Of course, I thought I would be able to do that when I finished off Corypheus,” Nehn sighed.

“At the very least, you should have a break in the action,” Cullen smiled while rubbing his hand along Nehn’s upper arm. “Although I expect you may have to travel lightly to seal any remaining rifts.”

“Elgar’nan! I haven’t closed them all already? I lost count at 75. How many more can there be?” Nehn fretted.

“Not many, but there are still some remaining Venatori opening them out of spite - not to mention those that occur as a result of unintentional disruptions in the Veil. Your mark pretty much guarantees you’ll be in demand for the foreseeable future,” Cullen noted.

“I had hoped it might go away or that I could put whatever power it held back into the orb. I should have done a better job safeguarding the foci,” Nehn lamented.

“As I recall, you narrowly avoided being squashed along with that blasted thing. I, for one, am glad to see it destroyed. The fewer insanely powerful, poorly understood magical artifacts remaining in Thedas the better.”

“Even without lyrium, you think like a templar,” Nehn teased.

“I doubt my opinion is confined to the Order. Had the orb not been destroyed, what would you have done with it?”

“I probably would have given it to Solas for him to study," Nehn replied nonchalantly.

Cullen stopped walking and stared at Nehn like she had lost her mind. “To Solas?” he asked in utter disbelief. “You would have given something capable of tearing a hole in the fabric of reality ... to Solas?” Cullen put his hands to his temples while shaking his head.

“I’m sure he would have been careful with it. It isn’t as if he’d go passing it around to strangers,” Nehn argued.

“Nehn, he _lied_ to you. Why would you ever trust him - especially with something like the orb?” Cullen asked with increasing horror. “You don’t still love him - do you?”

“No... I’ll always care about him, but I don’t _love_ him - not in that way,” Nehn said gently. “It’s just... the Mark’s magic, the orb’s magic... he _understood_ it. I’m not sure _why_ he understood it. He just did.”

“Or acted like he did,” Cullen snapped. “You put entirely too much faith in him, Nehn. It worries me.”

“He’s gone, Cullen. You have no need to be concerned,” Nehn said while putting her hand to Cullen’s cheek. “Besides, even if he were here, I would choose you every time.”

“You’d just give him an artifact capable of destroying the world,” Cullen said sarcastically.

Nehn gave him an exasperated look before saying, “It’s a moot point. The orb is gone. Solas is gone. Before this turns any uglier, let’s change the subject. Has there been any word from Val Royeaux on the election of the Divine?”

“Leliana’s ... ahem... contacts there feel sure she is to be chosen on the next ballot. Maker... the thought of our spymaster leading the Chantry...” Cullen started but was interrupted by Nehn.

“Oh no you don’t! You refused to share your opinion with me when I practically begged you for it. I don’t care to hear complaining about my recommendation now,” Nehn snipped.

“You’re the one that brought it up,” Cullen pointed out.

“Because I was trying to avoid an argument,” Nehn huffed.

“Might want to try a different strategy then,” Cullen blurted out having already been irritated by Nehn’s flippant remark on his battle fitness and her Solas-sized blind spot. In response, Nehn’s eyes narrowed, and the air took on the distinct smell of ozone as she struggled to control her emotions and magic. “Maker’s breath, Nehn. There’s no need to get so worked up,” Cullen fussed and then immediately wanted to recant when Nehn’s eyes flashed with fire. “Wait... that came out wrong,” he said apologetically while reaching toward Nehn.

“You can walk yourself back to camp, Commander,” Nehn snarled before putting her hands up to block his advance and then stomping away.

_So much for a romantic stroll,_ Cullen thought wearily as he trailed behind.

Nehn stormed into camp and called out to Iron Bull. “I’m ready for some dragon fighting. I know we said we’d wait until tomorrow, but I’m in the mood to throw fire. Want to help me talk the others into it?”

“Is that a legitimate question?” Bull laughed. “You know I’m always down for a dragon fight, and it looks like you’re already good and riled up. I’m pretty sure your spells burn hotter and hit harder when you fight mad.”

“Well, if we don’t take on the dragon, I’m going to have to char a few tuskets or wyvern just to calm down.”

“Argument with Cullen?” Bull guessed. The fact that Nehn only growled in response confirmed his supposition.

“Let me go get the crew. There’s nothing more fun than fighting beside you when you’re pissed. Just promise me you’ll throw in a few curse words from the Common Tongue every now and then. I feel so left out when you only use elven,” Bull teased.

“No problem, Bull. I may even through a _Taarsidath-an halsaam_ in there for good measure,” Nehn answered with a wink.

“Qunlat spoken with a Dalish accent is smoking hot, Boss,” Bull grunted his approval lustily.

“Dragons, Bull... focus on dragons. _Atashi_ \- right?” Nehn clarified using the Qunari word.

“Damn, Boss. I love it when you talk dragons to me.”

“Back to planning tomorrow’s fight?” Cullen asked having just caught up to Nehn and Bull.

“Not tomorrow - today!” Bull exulted. “She’s angry enough that she needs to go out and kill something. I swear she’s Qunari at heart. Just promise you’ll save making up until after the battle. No sense for all of that glorious rage to get wasted.”

“Nehn, I’m sorry ...” Cullen began ignoring Bull’s advice.

“No! Save it for later,” Bull interrupted and then whispered conspiratorially to Cullen. “Sex after a dragon fight is mind blowing. Don’t miss your chance.”

Cullen looked like was trying to decide whether to deck Bull when Nehn kissed him on the cheek. “I’m angry about a lot of things - most completely unrelated to you. Let me work through this my way.”

“Just please, be careful,” Cullen pleaded. “I almost wish I wasn’t here to witness this. It’s hard enough reading about the risks you take.”

“You could join me,” Nehn offered. 

“I thought I was too much of a paper pusher,” Cullen reminded her.

“I’m planning on staying at the edges of the battle, and dragons almost always call to their kin during a fight. It would be nice to have a big, strong warrior to keep the dragonlings and deep stalkers out of my hair, so I can concentrate on spellcasting and barriers,” Nehn hinted while batting her eyelashes.

Cullen smiled. “I sincerely doubt you actually need my assistance, but I would feel better beside you nonetheless. You have my sword, my lady.”

“You don’t go into a dragon battle with a box of chocolates and a bottle of wine. Save the pillow talk for later. We’ve got dragon blood to bathe in!” Bush yelled before racing off to rally Nehn’s team.

The battle itself was quite difficult, and Nehn found herself grateful to have Cullen at her side keeping the swarms of dragonkin at bay. When the dragon finally lay dead, Nehn and Cullen leaned against each other panting and exhausted.

“Maker, I thought that would never end,” Cullen admitted. “I was beginning to wonder if there was an endless supply of deepstalkers in the area.”

“No kidding. I stopped counting after you killed a dozen of them. But you weren’t just taking care of lizards, you got several swings in on Hakkon’s dragon himself,” Nehn remarked while squeezing Cullen’s sword arm proudly.

“It was either that or be eaten,” Cullen joked. “And you’ve done this ten other times? Amazing.”

“Eleven if you count Cory’s dragon,” Nehn corrected. “This one was tougher than most. Still I’ll take a dragon over raging druffalo any day. I can’t tell you the number of times one of those bastards has knocked me out. And don’t even get me started on bears...” Nehn laughed.

“Speaking of bears... what’s this whole hold-beast thing? Didn’t you have to save some sacred bear?” Cullen asked.

“Storvacker... Thane Sun-Hair wants me to judge her for not fighting against capture harder. I can’t _bear_ to think what might happen if I make the wrong decision,” Nehn punned.

“You don’t want to cause an _embarrassment_ to the Inquistion,” Cullen joined in.

“Absolutely not. That would be _unbearable_ ,” Nehn snickered.

Cassandra, who had caught the gist of their exchange, made a disgusted noise before reminding them to check each other for wounds. “We don’t want another dragon scale incident,” she warned recalling when Nehn had gotten deathly ill from having two dragon scales lodged in her shoulder.

Cullen got a mischievous look in his eye once Cassandra walked away. “We have our orders. The only question remains is who gets naked first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fairly fluffy fluff while we wait to see whether Trespasser will break our hearts. Gah! Can't wait for it to pop up for sale on the PSN!!!


	109. Chapter 109

As Cullen reluctantly donned Avvar attire for a feast held in Nehn’s honor at Stone-Bear Hold, he questioned whether it was truly necessary.

“Thane Sun-Hair gave us the clothes, Cullen. We don’t want to offend her,” Nehn replied while putting on a heavy coat made of tusket leather with fennec fur lining.

“Yes, but why do I have to wear this particular outfit? All of the other Inquisition men were given fur coats. I’m running around shirtless in the Frostback Mountains! It’s undignified ... not to mention cold.” Cullen protested.

“Avvar hunters don’t seem to mind it,” she replied with a shrug when Cullen continued to scowl. 

“It’s ridiculous. I look like a fool.”

“You _look_ virile and rugged,” Nehn whispered in Cullen’s ear. “I rather wish we were Avvar. You could capture me, take me back to your hold, and then claim me for you own.”

“I can see I’ve fallen victim to your imagination again,” Cullen chuckled. “So am I right to assume _you_ chose this outfit?”

“If I admit to it, will you play along? Hearing about Avvar courtship traditions gave me some ideas. Don’t you want to seize and conquer me, Commander?” Nehn purred.

“I shan’t be able to think of anything else during the banquet. You are a merciless tease,” he exhaled while grabbing her about the waist and pulling her to him tightly.

“A little anticipation never hurt anyone,” Nehn said breathily before pulling away. “Besides I rather like how you look without all of that ridiculous heavy armor.”

“That _ridiculous_ armor has saved my life on more than one occasion. We can’t all simply imagine a barrier and have it appear,” Cullen chided with a wink.

“I promise that I’ll be watching you all night. Should you need protection - you’ll have it. In all likelihood, our biggest threat tonight will be getting a stomach ache,” Nehn said reassuringly while patting Cullen’s chest.

“I still feel naked,” Cullen complained. Nehn merely hummed happily in response. “Merciless,” he muttered under his breath before following her to the longhouse where the feast was to be held.

The feast itself was rowdy and raucous with the Avvar singing, eating, and drinking with unrivaled abandon. Nehn was seated at the head table next to Thane Sun-Hair while the Augur was on her other side. Cullen and the other members of the Inquisition were given places scattered throughout the longhouse. 

Nehn was pleased to see Sigrid, Fenn, and Cole seated together and chatting. Sigrid had exiled herself from the clan when she didn’t want to release the spirit that had taught her about magic. When Nehn returned with Sigrid to the hold, she introduced the very lonely Sigrid to Fenn, who had recently lost his father and was crippled by a bad injury. Both bonded over their shared sense of isolation from the rest of the clan and became good friends almost immediately. The Augur noticed Nehn watching the couple and commented, “It was kind for you to bring them together. Sometimes it takes an outsider’s eyes to see a problem’s solution.”

“Cole seems to think they’ll be good for each other as well. He’s rarely wrong about people,” Nehn smiled.

“Few lowlanders would feel so comfortable around a spirit. How did you come to know him?” the Augur asked.

“He came to help during one of our early battles. It took me awhile to grow used to him. His abilities can be disconcerting, but I had a dear friend that helped me learn how to accept and appreciate Cole.”

“Ah- the fadewalker- I assume.”

“Yes. How did you know about Solas? He had already left the Inquisition before we arrived.”

“The gods know of him. They wished to meet him, although they were satisfied seeing you,” the Augur replied.

_So Solas has a cult following in the Fade,_ Nehn thought before taking another drink of her wine. It was intensely sweet, and she found herself drinking more than usual during the celebration.

Later that night, Thane Sun-Hair stood and toasted Nehn and her companions before declaring Nehn a member of their hold and giving her the legend mark First-Thaw for being a sign of renewal and hope. Nehn, who had overindulged in Avvar mead at that point, climbed first on her chair and then onto the table before raising her glass high and yelling, “Woohoo! I’m an Avvar elf. Inquisitor First-Thaw wants a refill.” Rather than offending her hosts, the tribe roared its approval at Nehn’s display and quickly complied to fill Nehn’s request for more booze.

Dorian made his way over to Cullen whose mouth had dropped open seeing Nehn dancing on top of the tables with the Thane and other Avvar. “She always said that she didn’t hold her alcohol well,” the Tevinter commented while watching Nehn shimmy wildly and shoot sparks from her fingertips in time with the music. “I suppose she knew what she was talking about.” 

Cullen didn’t reply, but stood and walked over to Nehn. “You’ve had quite a bit to drink, love. Perhaps we should leave,” he said while extending his hand to Nehn who had just cartwheeled off the end of a table and then thrown her hands in the air triumphantly.

“I’m an Avvar now. If you want me, Commander, you’ll have to catch me,” Nehn flirted and then fade stepped across the room.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen sighed before leaping across several tables to grab Nehn about the waist and then throw her over his shoulder. She squealed with delight and shouted, “You’ve captured me. Now claim me.” Iron Bull and the Avvar in the room cheered wildly as a determined looking Cullen marched out of the longhouse with Nehn laying over his shoulder grinning from ear to ear.


	110. Chapter 110

Nehn woke up in a puddle of drool on a fur covered bed. Her head was slightly muddled from all the drinking she’d done at the feast and her body had a delicious ache from lovemaking the night before, but she hadn’t slept so soundly in ages. _Playing Avvar makes for sweet dreams,_ she thought as she rolled over to look at Cullen. He was sleeping on his stomach with his face buried in a pillow. His hair was a tangled mess of ringlets, and she could see scars on his back - some faint, others thicker - in the dim early morning light. Getting out of bed, Nehn shivered as she put more logs in the fireplace and stoked the dying flames. The mountain air was absolutely frigid, and Nehn hated being cold almost as much as she abhorred getting wet.

Deciding that the room was too chilly even with the rekindled fire, Nehn headed back to bed to cuddle Cullen who slept hot. Feeling amorous, Nehn slid nearer to him and began to kiss his neck and shoulders while gliding her hand along the hard lines of his back. He stirred for a moment, turned over, wrapped his arms around her, and then fell back into a deep sleep. Contenting herself to just listen to the sound of his breathing, Nehn rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. Moments like these were some of her favorites - feeling safe and warm in her lover’s arms. She sighed and slipped back into the Fade.

When Nehn awoke, she was alone. Knowing that she slept cold, Cullen had put his old coat over her and added logs to the fire before departing. Nehn grinned at his thoughtfulness and snuggled under the covers. If they didn’t need to depart for Suledin Keep and the wedding, she would have declared a pajama day and stayed in bed. But they _did_ need to leave, the wedding was quickly approaching, and some of the guests -including Cullen’s family- had already arrived In Emprise du Lion.

Nehn was excited and terrified about the prospect of meeting Cullen’s brother and sisters. Although Cullen had repeatedly assured her that they were accepting of her being an elf and a mage, she had difficulty imagining a family of loyal Andrastians like the Rutherford’s not being at least slightly disappointed by his choice of brides. Even if they didn’t have a problem with her as an elven mage, they still might just not like her as a _person_. As she thought about seeing them, Nehn felt her neck starting to itch. 

She sat up and cast a calming aura which barely blunted her rapidly increasing anxiety. Recognizing that she was headed into a full-fledged panic, Nehn tried to take some deep breaths but ended up hyperventilating instead. A short while later, Cullen came by to make sure she had gotten up and found her sitting on the bed wide-eyed, drenched in sweat, and covered in hives.

“Nightmare?” he guessed and poured Nehn a glass of water. 

Nehn shook her head vigorously before gulping down the water. “Worried about meeting your family,” she gasped.

Cullen sighed. Nehn was convinced they wouldn’t like her, and no amount of reassurances from him could change her mind. “We’ll be there in two days time, and you’ll see that you’ve been dreading this for nothing,” he reiterated.

“I hope you’re right,” Nehn snipped feeling that he was too dismissive of her concerns.

Cullen stared at the red welts covering Nehn’s chest and arms. “When I left you a little over an hour ago, you were asleep and mumbling about cookies. Now you’re awake and mottled. How do you manage that?”

“Making hives is my super power,” Nehn joked before before getting out of bed and going to her trunk to retrieve an elixir to ease her skin’s itching and redness. She searched where she normally stored her potions, but they weren’t there. When the image of her potions case sitting on her dresser at Skyhold appeared in her mind, she clunked her head against the top of the trunk and groaned.

“Is there something the matter?” Cullen quizzed.

“My personal potions... I think I forgot them at Skyhold. I was looking for something for my rash...” Nehn answered and resumed frantically sorting through her trunk. “My memory is a bit hazy from the mead. Last night... I didn’t ... I mean... did you remember?” she stammered while tossing things out of her trunk.

Cullen was confused. What did she mean by forgetting her potions? He had seen Nehn use plenty of regenerative and healing potions during the dragon fight two days earlier. Then he remembered those came from general Inquisition supplies. Nehn was talking about leaving _her_ potions behind - the ones she used for allergies, stomach upset, and preventing pregnancy. She was so conscientious about taking the latter that he never even thought about reminding her. “Maker’s breath,” he gasped when he realized why she was tearing through her trunk.

“It’ll be fine. The odds are that it’ll be fine...” Nehn worried as she ran her hands through her hair and made a mental note to find an apothecary as soon as possible. 

Cullen knelt down beside her and started folding the clothes Nehn had scattered on the dirt floor. “We could just stop,” he suggested tentatively.

“Stop having sex?” Nehn asked completely aghast.

“Maker, no!” he chuckled. “I meant stop being cautious - maybe even consciously _try_ ,” he added hopefully.

Nehn let out a long breath and leaned against Cullen. Although he claimed otherwise, Nehn knew his heart was set on having biological children. While she loved being a mother and sometimes imagined a chubby toddler with curly hair and brown eyes following Cullen around the keep, the thought of enduring another pregnancy made Nehn shudder. _It’s only nine months, Nehn. You survived it once. You could do it again._ she encouraged herself while taking in Cullen’s expectant gaze.

“Alright,” she finally agreed, and the look of pure joy that illuminated Cullen’s face made her decision certain. 

“Really?” Cullen questioned with giddy disbelief.

“Really,” Nehn smiled and then giggled when Cullen’s eyes darkened with unmistakable lust. “That doesn’t mean we have to start right this minute,” she teased.

“I’ve never been one for procrastination,” Cullen quipped before kissing her and walking her backwards toward the bed.


	111. Chapter 111

Sylvia swatted Nehn’s shoulder and ordered her to stop fidgeting. “Mamae, if I have to restart this braid a third time, I swear...”

“Sorry, Syl. You know how I get when I’m nervous. At least I’m not breaking out in hives,” Nehn quipped.

“Only because you downed half a bottle of your allergy potion,” Asha pointed out as she scratched Ginger’s belly. “One teaspoon and I need a nap. I don’t see how you’re still holding your head up.”

“Just promise me you won’t drink. You know how you get,” Sylvia begged. _And so does an entire clan of Avvar,_ Nehn thought while fighting to suppress a giggle. Sylvia would be absolutely mortified to know she had been dancing and cartwheeling off tables earlier that week after enjoying too much wine.

“I promise,” Nehn reassured. 

“There ... all finished,” Sylvia declared and examined her handiwork proudly. She had created two elaborate braids which joined together in a tight bun at the nape of Nehn’s neck.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d live in ponytails and messy chignons. Thanks, Syl.”

“All that time spent plaiting halla manes has to be good for something,” Sylvia smiled.

“So what happens if they don’t like you?” Asha asked nonchalantly while Sylvia’s eyes shot daggers at her little sister.

“How could they not like her?” Sylvia said through clenched teeth hoping that Asha would get a clue.

“Well, yeah, they _should_. What if they don’t?” Asha retorted.

Nehn gulped and started to feel dizzy. Falon, who had been leaning against the wall quietly observing, strode over to Asha, put a firm hand on her shoulder, and steered her toward the door. He turned toward his mother and said, “It will be fine, Mamae. You could charm the Dread Wolf himself.”

Nehn took a deep breath and shoved a tiny chocolate cake in her mouth. Cullen had instructed the kitchens to deliver a tray of them to her room that morning with the following handwritten note attached:

_A supply cache of sugar for my sweet. Don’t worry. Eat cake. Love, C._

Sera had somehow intercepted the note and had added two drawings of Nehn to the bottom. One which was covered by a giant red X showed Nehn covered in bright red hives with zigzags and swirls around her denoting frantic energy. The other showed Nehn reclining on a chaise eating cakes with a group of people Nehn could only assume were meant to represent the Rutherfords surrounded by hearts and flowers. Nehn and Sylvia had laughed themselves silly when the note arrived while Asha surreptitiously filched a few cakes.

Nehn stood and smoothed the blue damask robe Dorian had laid out for her the night before. The dress had a subtle floral motif embroidered on its fitted bodice and bell shaped three quarter length sleeves. Nehn’s favorite thing about the robe was that it stopped just shy of her ankles, so the beautiful silk slippers with crystal beading that Leliana had given to her as an engagement present were always visible. 

A knock on the door told Nehn it was nearly time to meet Mia, Branson, and Rosalie. The plan was for her to greet them first and then get introduced to their spouses and children after lunch. Nehn’s family would join them then as well. _No need to worry. It’ll be fine,_ she told herself as she opened the door although her hand trembled as she turned the knob. 

Cullen was standing straight looking sinfully suave in dress white uniform with a gold sash. His pupils dilated when he saw Nehn, and he broke into a dopey grin. “Maker’s breath, you’re beautiful,” he effused while offering Nehn his arm. 

“You look quite handsome yourself, Commander,” Nehn answered before lacing her arm through his. “So how is everyone?” she asked cautiously.

“Wonderful. I haven’t seen them in over ten years, but it was like I’d never left. Mia was bossing everyone around. Bran was intentionally irritating Mia. Rosie was caught in the middle. Business as usual for the Rutherfords,” Cullen chuckled. 

“And you? How do you fit in?” Nehn probed.

“I’m the quiet one.”

“Don’t they say the quiet ones are the ones to watch out for?” Nehn teased.

“You’d think they’d have figured that out by now,” Cullen answered with a wink. “Really though, it’s been fantastic seeing them and their families. Bran’s little boy has my mother’s eyes...” Cullen recounted and then got a pained look on his face.

“I’m sorry, Cullen. I know you never got a chance to say goodbye,” Nehn said while squeezing his upper arm.

Cullen cleared his throat and nodded. “In any event, they can’t wait to meet you.” He opened the door to the gardens where his siblings were waiting and ushered Nehn through. The mid-morning sun made everyone appear as silhouettes against the horizon, so the only thing Nehn could tell was that his family was tall - very, very tall. Feeling very, very short and uncomfortably elfy, Nehn took a deep breath and put on her best smile as one of the figures moved toward her.

“Mia,” Cullen whispered to Nehn although she would have guessed his oldest sister would be the first to approach.

As Mia got closer, Nehn could finally make out her features. She had a pretty but careworn face, wavy dark blond hair which she had styled in a pragmatic bun, and intelligent blue eyes. She beamed at her little brother and held her arms wide open. As soon as she got close enough, Mia enveloped Nehn in a tight hug while enthusiastically welcoming her to the family. Mia’s warmth quickly melted Nehn into puddle of tears that welled from a mixture of happiness and relief at her acceptance. 

Mia stepped back and patted Nehn on the shoulder. “Cully said you wore your heart on your sleeve,” she announced before producing a clean handkerchief and handing it to Nehn. “I came prepared,” she added.

Nehn blotted her eyes, turned toward Cullen, and incredulously repeated, “ _Cully_? Your _family_ calls you Cully? Sera is going to _love_ this.”

“It was a reasonable nickname when I was a _child_ ,” he said emphatically while glaring at his big sister.

“Cully thinks he’s too big for pet names,” Mia remarked. “But he’ll always be our little Cully Bear.”

“Cully _Bear_?” Nehn snickered gleefully. The possibilities for riling Cullen were endless with that tidbit.

“The nickname came about when he was three,” Mia began and Cullen groaned while looking at his sister with pleading eyes. Mia smirked and continued, “He decided he’d rather be a bear than a little boy. He was serious about it, too. Slept under the kitchen table for a solid month - said it was his den. He also refused to eat anything but honey, berries, and trout. Isn’t that right, Cully Bear?”

“Maker,” Cullen sighed.

“Is that why you wear those ridiculous fur pauldrons, Cully Bear?” Nehn teased. Cullen only growled in response as Branson and Rosalie sauntered forward to join the conversation. There was no doubting Branson was Cullen’s brother. His countenance was a boyish version of Cullen’s. The laugh lines on Bran’s face showed he spent as much time joking as Cullen did worrying. Like Mia and Rosalie, Bran was lean and lanky. Seeing his siblings, Nehn surmised that Cullen’s muscular frame came from hard work and perseverance rather than genetics.

Cullen’s youngest sibling Rosalie was a stunning strawberry blond whose hair fell to her waist in tight ringlets. Although she was tall like the rest of the Rutherfords, she looked fragile with pale skin and delicate features. Her eyes were very kind, but she was clearly the most guarded of the bunch. Rosie, as her family called her, nodded a hello to Nehn but stayed quiet -observing everyone’s interactions and occasionally staring at Nehn’s marked hand. _Cautious like my Falon,_ Nehn thought as she returned Rosie’s greeting. 

After Cullen introduced them officially, Branson’s brown eyes gleamed with mischief as he thanked Nehn profusely for taking the family’s black sheep off their hands.

Cullen grunted at his brother’s gibe and then said, “I’m not the one who ended up in the stocks.”

“You’d have been right there with me if the sisters had seen through your innocent act,” Branson retorted. 

“Wait. What?” Nehn quizzed dying to hear another tale of Cullen’s youth.

Branson put his arm around Nehn’s shoulder and guided her over to a marble bench. “Get comfortable. This is a good one,” he started.

“Oh no you don’t,” Cullen protested. “If anyone tells her that story, I’ll do it myself.”

“Have at it, big brother,” Branson replied while bowing aside.

“Mama was very devout. If the Chant was being recited, we were there pressed and polished - no excuses. Then we’d stay for another hour or so while mother prayed. Father almost always remained back at the farm, however,” Cullen began. “As you can imagine, Bran and I found listening to the droning septuagenarian Revered Mother less than enthralling. To keep ourselves entertained, we’d dare each other to pull pranks. Usually it was small things - adding goofy requests to the Chanter’s board, rearranging books in the library, doodling in the margins of hymnals, replacing chantry candles with ones that wouldn’t light...” 

“Borderline blasphemy and whatnot,” Branson added.

“And your mother didn’t notice?” Nehn asked.

“If she did, she never let on. The four of us ran her ragged. Rosie was frequently ill. Bran was constantly getting hurt. Mia was bossy and stubborn. I snuck off all the time. I think Chantry services were her sole break from parenting which was probably why we were there so often. Mama no doubt figured that between the templars and sisters that if we were about to get into legitimate trouble someone would stop us,” Cullen went on.

“I was what - eleven? Which would have made you nine or ten -right?” Cullen questioned Branson who nodded. “We had come across some old copies of the  Randy Dowager Quarterly and got the idea to switch out sections of the Revered Mother’s Book of Chants with more... ahem... interesting material. Like I mentioned, she was older and had a failing memory, so she pretty much _read_ the Chant rather than reciting it.”

“Oh gods, you didn’t...” Nehn groaned.

“We weren’t successful. A Knight-Templar caught Bran in the Revered Mother’s office with a jar of paste and a few cuttings from the Quarterly before he could even finish the first edit. I was supposed to be his lookout, but one of the templars had offered me a chance to watch them spar,” Cullen said sheepishly.

“Which provided him with the perfect alibi,” Bran added. “I, on the other hand, spent an afternoon in the stocks and then had to serve penance as the Revered Mother’s errand boy for the next year. Never ratted out Cully, though. It would have ended any chance of his becoming a templar, and I couldn’t do that to him. Although sometimes I suppose you may have wished I had...”

“It turned out well enough,” Cullen said putting his arm about Nehn’s waist which made Nehn blush self-consciously.

Rosalie finally spoke. “Does it hurt?” she asked while looking warily at Nehn’s glowing left hand. “It looks like it hurts.”

Nehn examined her marked hand and then made eye contact with Rosalie. “It was excruciating when the Breach first opened, but it’s settled down considerably. Most days it just tingles like I slept on it funny. Closing rifts is painful though.” Rosalie nodded seemingly content with Nehn’s answer. Cullen, however, looked concerned.

“You never told me mending rifts hurts you,” he said accusingly. 

“It isn’t as if I have a choice. I can’t just leave them open,” Nehn answered with a shrug. _Although I don’t quite understand why sealing them has hurt so much more lately..._ she mused and then realized the difference was Solas’ absence. _He could have at least taught me or Dorian whatever spells he was using to help me deal with rifts before he took off. Ass._

Cullen noticed Nehn scowling and looked at her quizzically. She quickly shook off her thoughts about Solas and returned to chatting amicably with his siblings. Cullen, however, made a mental note to question Nehn more about the Anchor later. Clearly she had was holding something back still. 

The remainder of the day went off without a hitch although Nehn caught a raging case of baby fever when she held Branson’s son - a precocious two year old who carried a tattered blanket with him everywhere and spoke with an adorable lisp. If they hadn’t already decided to forgo birth control, Nehn would have been pestering Cullen about stopping. Seeing evidence of what a Rutherford baby looked like, her hormones declared that she _needed_ a child with Cullen. 

The Lavellans hit it off well with Cullen’s extended family. Sylvia and Branson’s wife shared an enthusiasm for mabari. Falon talked about tracking game with Bran and discussed being a medic’s assistant with Mia. Asha flitted around gathering stories about Cullen’s youthful misadventures for “leverage”. Even grumpy Sionn grudgingly admitted the Rutherfords were good people _for shems_ at the conclusion of the evening.

All of the socialization left Nehn bone-tired. When Cullen and she got to their room, she didn’t even bother to take down her hair or change into nightclothes before laying down. Cullen started to ask her about the Mark when he realized she was already fast asleep. _How in the world does she manage to nod off so quickly?_ he wondered. Caressing her cheek, he thanked the Maker for giving her to him and then smiled remembering the surprise he had planned for her tomorrow. Although she was convinced that her parents, sister, and clanmates would refuse to attend the wedding, Cullen had contacted them anyway. Lavellan’s Keeper Deshanna, Nehn’s best friend Ayla, Nehn’s sister - now the Keeper of Clan Valen, and Nehn’s parents had all accepted his invitation and were set to arrive in the afternoon.


	112. Chapter 112

After breakfast, Cullen pulled Falon aside to enlist his help in making sure Nehn didn’t miss the surprise reunion with her parents, sister and clan mates. To Cullen’s alarm, Falon looked concerned rather than excited about the news.

“Something wrong?” Cullen questioned.

Falon twisted his mouth and looked at the floor before returning Cullen’s gaze. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Granted, but you needn’t stand on ceremony when we’re off-duty,” Cullen reminded.

“Mamae _hates_ surprises -even good ones. And I’m not certain she’ll consider this a good one. Had she included them on the guest list?”

“No. She thought they would refuse,” Cullen answered. 

Falon grimaced. “Or she didn’t want them here. Marrying a human is taboo. They may be coming in hopes of dissuading her. Not to mention that she has never told the clan about having her vallaslin removed. Sionn’s reaction to that was mild compared to what Deshanna’s will be.”

Cullen paled at Falon’s words and grabbed the back of his neck. “I hadn’t even considered ...” 

Falon put a hand on Cullen’s shoulder and advised, “You need to let her know _now_. Don’t ambush her with this later.”

Cullen nodded and furrowed his brow.

“You meant well. She’ll realize that, too ... eventually. Just tell her - although you may want to change out of your armor first. She sometimes starts sparking when she gets really angry. You don’t want to get shocked,” Falon warned.

Cullen took Falon’s advice about removing his armor and then tracked down Nehn. She was in the middle of a game of chess with Mia. Dorian was watching the match and making color commentary.

“Ah, if it isn’t our dashing groom,” Dorian announced as Cullen approached. “I’m set to play the victor unless you’re wanting to take my place. Your sister is quite the tactician.”

Cullen shook his head and walked closer to Nehn. “We need to talk,” he said urgently.

“It can wait. I’m not about to forfeit,” Nehn snipped. Her competitive streak was in full force. There would be no dragging her away from the game. 

Cullen studied the board and saw a way to end the game quickly. He moved one of Nehn’s pieces and declared “Checkmate for Mia in three,” while gesturing at the board. 

“What in the Void, Cullen?” Nehn yelled. She hated losing under any circumstances.

“We _need_ to talk,” he repeated.

“Go on,” Mia said, “My little brother has a bee in his bonnet about something. We can have a rematch later.”

“I’ll be more than happy to keep the lovely Mia entertained,” Dorian offered while Nehn reluctantly stood.

“This had better be important,” Nehn whispered to Cullen as they walked away.

“It is. I was trying to do something special for you ... a surprise, but I may have made a mistake...” Cullen began.

“Cullen, you’re too critical of yourself. Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“I’m not certain about that...” Cullen countered and then told Nehn about his plans.

“Oh, Cullen...” Nehn groaned before closing her eyes and casting a calming aura. The air took on the distinct smell of ozone as she tried to keep her magic and emotions in check. _At least she isn’t arcing electricity,_ Cullen thought.

“I can’t expect an outsider to understand the Dalish, but you should have had enough sense to ask me _why_ I left them off the guest list,” Nehn chastised.

“I realize that now. I am sorry, Nehn.”

Nehn pressed her hands to her temples and sighed. “What’s done is done. Maybe they’ll surprise me and not declare me _banal_.”

“ _Banal_?” Cullen queried.

“ _Banal_ means nothing. In the sight of your clan and family, you no longer exist ... never existed in fact,” Nehn explained as her voice cracked from trying not to cry.

“Just because we’re getting married?” Cullen asked.

“For most clans, that would be more than enough. The most traditional ones would see us executed,” Nehn said matter-of-factly. “Clan Lavellan is more progressive -as are my sister and parents’ clans. With Deshanna having taken a human lover, I think she was simply ignoring our union and its implications. As my Keeper, it would be her responsibility to render judgment against me. But my vallaslin...”

“Falon thought that would be the bigger problem as well. Why?”

“Vallaslin are central to Dalish identity. It is how we mark our faith and set ourselves apart from other elves. I expect they’ll see my letting Solas remove them as tantamount to rejecting our culture and heritage. Considering my views on our pantheon, they wouldn’t be entirely wrong,” Nehn admitted and then began to cry freely.

“I’m sorry,” she said while wiping her tears away. “I’d just hoped to gather evidence to support Solas’ claims before I presented them to my clan. With all they’ve seen and heard, Sionn and Sylvia still have their vallaslin - what does that tell you?”

“That you’re even braver than I realized,” Cullen said quietly.

Nehn snorted. “Or more gullible. Take your pick.” 

***********************

Nehn’s parents were the first to arrive at Suledin Keep. Up to that point, Nehn had spent the day alternating between fits of crying, fretting, and cursing. When she heard her parents were waiting for her, however, she became stoic. After inspecting Asha closely, she took her daughter’s hand and went to introduce her as well as Sylvia and Falon to their grandparents. Cullen followed the Lavellan procession feeling distinctly out-of-place.

Cullen had enlisted Varric to greet and entertain the Sylains until Nehn was ready to meet them. If anyone could make people feel at ease, it was the gregarious dwarf. Cole had also offered his assistance. Nehn’s upset had made him visibly disturbed, and he kept appearing in their quarters with cookies, kittens, and smutty novels in an effort to cheer Nehn. She’d eventually told him that she had to handle the situation on her own, but he could come by later to tell her knock-knock jokes which satisfied his need to help.

When Nehn entered the courtyard where Varric was regaling her parents with a story about the Sabrae clan, she gasped and covered her mouth in surprise. Her mother saw her and happily exclaimed, “Sulahn’nehn!” before bustling over and enveloping Nehn in a hug. Nehn’s mother was the tiniest elf Cullen had ever seen. She was a good two inches shorter than Varric and had a waifish build to boot. Like Nehn, her personality augmented her small stature. She had an easy smile and a quick wit. In no time, she had made her way through the Lavellan’s hugging and talking to them all without ever letting go of Nehn.

When she reached Cullen, she tilted her chin up just like Nehn did when she wanted to make a point. “So this is to be your husband, da’len?” she asked.

“Yes, Mamae. This is Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition’s forces,” Nehn said hesitantly.

Nehn’s mother examined Cullen closely. Her blue green eyes sizing him up and down. “Well, if you had to marry a human, at least you chose a handsome one. I assume he’s good to you?”

“Yes, Mamae. He’s very kind,” Nehn answered.

“And do you love her?” Ami Sylain asked Cullen directly.

“Yes, ma’am - very much,” he responded earnestly.

“Good then. We never thought we’d seen Sulahn’nehn again when she left our clan to become Lavellan’s First. We’re grateful for this chance to be with her and our grandchildren even if the circumstances are somewhat... unusual. Isn’t that right, Meryn?” Nehn’s mother said pointedly to Nehn's father who had been standing quietly at a distance.

Nehn’s father cleared his throat and then sighed, “I suppose so. Is there no way to change your mind, da’len?”

“No, Papa. Ir abelas,” Nehn said while bowing her head.

“You always were ridiculously stubborn. I won’t be the one to stand in your way... as if it would do any good,” he said while shaking his head.

Nehn couldn’t contain herself and flung her arms around her father’s neck while chattering in rapid elven. The old man chuckled and patted her on the back. “Still the same sweet girl ... just finding new ways to get into trouble. I wonder, though, how did you come to never take your vallaslin?”

“I received my vallaslin when I was a teen -dedicating myself to Sylaise like Mamae. In the course of my time as Inquisitor, I encountered true Elvhen, and one of them removed my tattoos,” Nehn replied.

“True Elvhen? You met ancient elves?” her father questioned.

“And Mythal. Don’t forget that, Mamae,” Asha added.

“Mythal? But she is locked away with the Creators...” Nehn’s mother argued. 

“We met ancient elves, traveled through some of their temples... and yes, Asha and I met Mythal - or at least an aspect of her. I’ve learned much about our ancestors. Unfortunately, very little of what I have discovered is positive,” Nehn ventured.

“Is this why you’ve turned to a human?” her father asked, and Cullen felt exceptionally awkward under his critical gaze.

“No, I love Cullen for who he is - not as an act of rebellion, hahren,” Nehn said steadily. Cullen shifted uncomfortably as several moments of deafening silence passed before either of Nehn’s parents spoke.

“This is a matter for your Keeper to decide,” her father finally pronounced. 

“Yes, father,” Nehn said deferentially. “I _am_ glad to see you and mother.”

“We’re happy to see you and our grandchildren,” Nehn’s mother said with a smile that failed to mask her concern. “Our journey has been quite long, however. Perhaps you could have someone show us to our room?”

“Certainly, Mamae. Falon, would you mind?”

Falon stepped forward and offered his arm to his grandmother. Asha volunteered to join them and picked up their bags while Sylvia announced that she wanted to lay down for a bit. Soon only Nehn, Varric, and Cullen remained in the courtyard.

“Family reunions - gotta love them - or not,” Varric quipped. “You okay, Sassy?”

“I think so. That went better than I expected actually,” Nehn exhaled. 

“Really? Toward the end, the tension was getting so thick I could almost see it,” Varric commented.

“At least everyone stayed civil. Let’s just hope it stays that way,” Nehn said before turning to Cullen. “Are you doing okay? That couldn’t have been easy.”

“I did feel a bit like a recruit with poor turnout during an inspection, but I’ll be fine as long as you are,” Cullen replied while taking Nehn’s hand.

“I’ll leave you two love birds for now. Let me know if you need me,” Varric said putting a hand on Nehn’s shoulder and giving Cullen a nod. 

With Varric gone, Nehn leaned against Cullen who held her protectively and kissed the top of her head.

“Things should go more smoothly with my sister,” Nehn finally stated after soaking up Cullen’s embrace. “We’ve corresponded some. I consulted her about Dirthamen’s temple even. She is dedicated to him after all.”

“Is that the one with the owl?” Cullen asked.

Nehn shook her head. “No, Falon’Din had an owl that he used as a messenger. Some stories say Andruil used owls, too, although our clan always said it was hawks. I never thought to ask Solas... Anyway, Dirthamen is the Keeper of Secrets. He communed with the ravens Fear and Deceit.”

“Sounds like a great guy...” Cullen joked which earned him a glare from Nehn. Although she might joke about the pantheon, she did not like it when non-elves did.

“Sorry,” Cullen said quickly.

“At least, I know you also harbored heretical notions as a youth. The  Randy Dowager as a substitute for sacred texts? Really, Cullen...”


	113. Chapter 113

After years of having mages pretend to ignore him when he was a templar, Cullen thought he had grown immune to getting the cold shoulder. The reception Nehn’s sister gave him, though, disabused him of that notion. Seranna Valen was the quintessential Dalish elf - distant, haughty, and wary. When Nehn introduced Cullen to her, she barely acknowledged him before turning away and making a point of speaking to Nehn in elven.

Even more disturbing to Cullen was Nehn’s reaction. Rather than mouthing off in his defense, she was quiet and deferential. The Nehn he knew and loved was a spitfire who never backed down. The person before him was timid and weak. _What in the Maker’s name has happened to you, Nehn?_ he wondered.

Sylvia caught him scowling at Nehn and Seranna who had sat down at a table on the other side of the garden from where he stood. She put a hand on Cullen’s arm and gave him an empathetic smile. “She isn’t rejecting you. She’s showing respect to an elder. Trust me, she’ll get her point across. She just has to do it the right way, or my aunt will refuse to even hear her out.”

“It’s like she’s another person...” Cullen commented.

“It might seem that way, but Mamae is just playing her part. Deferring to elders is a big part of our culture. We even have different verb tenses and phrases we use with those who are older.”

“Not to sound snide, but I’ve never noticed Falon or Asha kowtowing to you,” Cullen remarked which made Sylvia chuckle.

“Our sibling squabbles aren’t actual disputes. If we were arguing over something critical, even Asha would act accordingly. It’s part of how we’re raised, who we are,” Sylvia explained.

“I really stepped in it inviting them - didn’t I?” Cullen asked.

“I don’t know. Mamae and I talked about this when she was deciding whether to include them on the guest list. I saw this confrontation as inevitable and better dealt with now. She, of course, wanted to ...” 

“Worry about it later?” Cullen finished Sylvia’s sentence knowing Nehn’s tendency to put off big decisions.

“Exactly,” Sylvia laughed.

“If I may ask, why haven’t you gotten your vallaslin removed? Do you doubt what Solas said?” Cullen questioned.

Sylvia exhaled loudly and rubbed her belly before responding. “Vallaslin _may_ have once been slave markings, but that isn’t what they symbolize now. They show that I’m Dalish. That I’m proud of my heritage. I don’t want to erase that.”

“That’s understandable. I expect I would feel the same way,” Cullen admitted. “So what do we do now?” he quizzed while looking at Nehn and her sister who were deeply absorbed in conversation.

“ _You_ wait, and see what happens. _I’m_ going to get off my feet. My ankles are swelling, and my back is killing me. This baby can’t come soon enough.”

“Don’t say that... we don’t want him to crash the wedding,” Cullen joked.

As Sylvia waddled away, Nehn’s parents and Asha entered the courtyard. Cullen noticed that they seemed to genuinely be enjoying each other. _Perhaps some good will come of this after all._ Asha waved at him and then skipped over to where her mother and aunt were sitting. Cullen smiled as he watched Seranna reunite with her parents. The cold, distant woman he’d met faded away as she kissed her mother and hugged her father. The warmth was short lived, however. Shortly after greeting each other, Seranna and her mother began to argue while Nehn looked lost and worried.

Nehn’s father Meryn stepped back from the disagreement and headed toward Cullen. “Asha told us that it was you who extended this invitation - not Sulahn’nehn. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir. I thought she would enjoy reuniting with her family - that it would be a nice surprise,” Cullen said cautiously.

Meryn snickered and then said, “We Dalish have an old saying - _Good intentions line the path to the Void._ ”

“I’m beginning to see that, sir,” Cullen replied with a self-conscious chuckle. 

Nehn’s father put an arm out and said, “Walk with me. We have much to discuss.” Cullen obliged tentatively following alongside the older man who stayed silent until they had left the courtyard.

“Did Sulahn’nehn tell you how Seranna and she came to live with other clans?” 

“Yes, sir. She said that your clan had too many mages, so they were sent to find placements elsewhere.”

Meryn nodded and then sat down in a chair while gesturing for Cullen to do the same. “The day we sent them to Arlathven was the worst of my life. Losing both my daughters to uncertain futures ...” he recalled and then cleared his throat when his voice started to rattle with emotion. “We never expected to see either of them again. Ami and I _are_ grateful that you asked us here. It’s just...”

Cullen sat quietly and waited for Meryn to finish. The old elf shifted in his chair and scratched his head thoughtfully. “Humans often find elves attractive, exotic. Some even lure young women away from the clan with promises of a better life - only to use and discard them. Are you certain this isn’t simply a temporary infatuation?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, sir. I love her and want to grow old with her,” Cullen answered firmly.

Nehn’s father stared at Cullen weighing his words before declaring, “I believe that you care for her, but I’m not sure you understand the gravity of what you’re doing. Whether her Keeper declares it officially or not, marrying a human will effectively cut her off from the People. Is it fair of you to ask that of her?”

“Even without our relationship, she would not be able to return to her old life. Fate has marked her, given her grave responsibilities that she can’t put aside. I want to protect her, help carry her burdens. I won’t turn away from her just to make others comfortable,” Cullen said forcefully.

“I see,” Meryn said pensively. “You’ve given me much to consider. I won’t keep you any longer, Commander,” he announced before standing and extending his hand to Cullen. After shaking Meryn’s hand, Cullen returned to the courtyard to find Nehn sitting alone.

“Where were you?” she quizzed.

“Speaking with your father. Where did your mother and sister go?”

“Off somewhere else to pout I suppose. You’d have thought they could go at least a day before ending up at each other’s throat,” Nehn quipped.

“So they weren’t arguing about us?”

“No, Mamae and Seranna don’t need us to find a reason to disagree. Seranna is actually supportive of our relationship.”

“She is? She seemed pretty frigid,” Cullen noted.

“That’s just her. She’s very reserved around people she doesn’t know. It’s easy to misinterpret her aloofness as disdain. She is also a bit of a princess, so to keep the peace I have to kiss up to her. It’s always been that way. We had a good talk about the pantheon before Mamae came. Seranna was willing to hear me out on that which is more than I’d have ever expected from any Keeper - much less her.”

“So maybe I didn’t screw up entirely by inviting them?” Cullen asked hopefully.

“Maybe ... at the very least, it’s been nice to see everyone whole and healthy. I’m not sure I would have ever contacted them on my own. As I suspected, Mamae and Seranna are more concerned about my missing vallaslin than our marriage. Father is... well... you know... What did he have to say to you by the way?”

“He wanted to make sure I was wanting to be with you for the right reasons. That I wouldn’t abandon you when the new wore off.”

Nehn sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m not surprised. He tends to jump to the worst-case scenario. You’re similar in that regard. It’s a good sign that he was even willing to speak to you. You know that - right?”

“Honestly when it comes to elves I’m probably safer if I assume I don’t know _anything_. Maker...” Cullen breathed while shaking his head.

“We’ve survived this far. Deshanna will be the biggest challenge I expect,” Nehn commented while putting her head on Cullen’s shoulder.

“But she’s _seeing_ a human...” 

“It’s different. She’s well past childbearing age, Cullen, and they aren’t getting married. I expect she’s going to have more of an issue with the vallaslin, and my changing views of the gods. Even though she is progressive enough to settle the clan in Wycome, she is _very_ devoted to Mythal and the rest of the pantheon.”

“But you met Mythal... shouldn’t that count for something?” Cullen queried.

“Yes, I met a fragment of Mythal who was existing within a _human_ after a failed murder attempt by our other gods. Think about how that might not go over particularly well with elfy elves. It’d be like your trying to convince the Southern Chantry that Andraste was a mage.”

“I’d most likely find myself surrounded by pitchfork wielding mobs,” Cullen remarked. 

“That’s what I hope to avoid,” Nehn replied only half-joking.


	114. Chapter 114

Nehn and Cullen were laughing as they watched Cullen’s pantsless nephew race away from his mother - his tattered blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a chevalier’s cape. Ahren had not wanted to stop playing to get his diaper changed, so the second his mother turned away he’d made his bid for freedom. Branson quickly corralled his son, picking him up and carrying him at arm’s length back to his wife. From the exasperated looks the couple shared, Nehn guessed it wasn’t the first time young Ahren had made a break for it which only made the spectacle funnier to her.

“I really shouldn’t laugh,” Nehn said between giggles. “Dirthara’ma and all that...”

“Translation?” Cullen asked with a hint of frustration. After spending the day walking on egg shells around Nehn’s family, he was feeling off-put by elves and elfiness in general.

“It’s an old Dalish curse. It means _May you learn._ If I laugh too hard at your nephew, we’ll be guaranteed to have a child that is even more of a handful someday,” Nehn explained and then broke out in a blindingly brilliant grin. “AYLA!” Nehn screamed at the top of her lungs and fade-stepped across the room toward a red-haired elf who was looking around nervously.

The two women embraced and then began bouncing up and down while their voices squeaked hellos with girlish excitement. Dorian, who was sitting nearby reading a book, glanced over at the commotion and let out an audible harrumph.

Noticing the Tevinter’s irritation at the arrival of Nehn’s _other_ best friend, Bull poked Dorian in the ribs and said, “So that’s your competition - huh? You can take her.”

“Competition? Hardly,” Dorian sneered before slamming his book shut and declaring that he’d done enough reading that day. As he flounced toward the exit, Nehn grabbed him by the arm and drug him over to meet Ayla.

“Is this your Commander?” Ayla asked with a coquettish lilt.

“No, this is my _Dorian_ ,” Nehn answered while lacing her arm through his. “He’s been tasked with keeping me sane in your absence.”

“Good luck with that,” Ayla quipped. “Although you look like you’d be up for any job,” she added in a husky purr.

“He’s taken, Ayla. And you’re married,” Nehn chided.

“Married but not dead. A little flirting never hurt anyone,” Ayla said with a wink at Dorian.

“You never told me Clan Lavellan was populated with tantalizing minxes,” Dorian rebuffed Nehn. “I would have demanded we go for a visit sooner had I known.”

Nehn shook her head at Dorian. If Ayla and he got into a flirt off, there’d be no time for catching up.

“Fine, fine... have it your way,” Dorian huffed at Nehn. Bowing toward Ayla with a rakish smile, he added, “Ayla, I’m delighted to have met you. Doing so only confirms my suspicions that Nehn has excellent taste in best friends. I do hope we’ll have more time to speak later.”

“As do I,” Ayla said with a playful waggle of her eyebrows. When Dorian had left, Nehn scowled at Ayla. 

“Oh, stop being such a prude,” Ayla cajoled while teasingly batting Nehn’s arm. “It never goes past flirting. Now where is this fiance of yours?” Nehn pointed across the room at Cullen who waved back tentatively.

“Oh my...” Ayla exclaimed while giving Nehn a knowing look. “I’d break with tradition, too.”

“Ayla, I didn’t fall in love with him for his looks...” Nehn corrected.

“But they certainly didn’t hurt...” Ayla pointed out.

Nehn blushed and bit her lip. “He _is_ really cute. Isn’t he?”

“As if you need to ask... So are we just going to stare at him, or are you going to introduce me?”

“Oh right, sorry,” Nehn said and ushered Ayla over to meet Cullen. When introductions and niceties were finished, Nehn asked Ayla where Deshanna was.

“Your parents and sister found us as soon as we arrived. They’ve been talking for the past hour about what to do about you. I got tired of the hand-wringing and left,” Ayla said with clear concern in her voice. Brightening up, she continued, “Falon and Asha are with them. I never knew your son shared his father’s golden tongue. He’s been quite eloquent in your defense.”

Nehn smiled proudly at the thought of Falon standing up for her. “I’m blessed to have him as a son. What about Asha though?”

“Asha is staying quiet unless asked a direct question. Sylvia has clearly coached her how to act around her elders. I know you never encouraged her to hold her tongue,” Ayla said with a crooked smile.

“As if she’d listen to a word I’d say,” Nehn answered back.

“Your mother did mention wishing that you’d have a child as headstrong as yourself...” Ayla teased.

“I’ll have to thank her for that ... if she’ll speak to me that is,” Nehn said and then screwed up her face in an effort to keep from crying.

“They’ll have made up their minds soon enough. Go splash your face and eat something. You never do well on an empty stomach. I’d like to speak to Cullen without your hovering anyway,” Ayla ordered and to Cullen’s surprise Nehn complied without argument.

“She never looks after herself properly,” Ayla commented flatly to Cullen.

“What do you think Deshanna will decide?” Cullen asked.

“She doesn’t _want_ to declare Nehn banal, but she feels like she _has_ to,” Ayla replied.

“Because we’re getting married?”

“They aren’t thrilled about that, but Deshanna would be a hypocrite to say anything. Besides, Nehn has raised three elven children - one of her own blood. She’s done her part to make sure our people survive. The clan also remembers that it was your soldiers who saved us on more than one occasion this past year. No, their primary concern is her rejection of our gods and removal of her vallaslin.”

“Does every Dalish believe in the gods? Are there no agnostics among you?” Cullen questioned.

“Oh there are plenty of Dalish who doubt - even some that deny the gods entirely. They aren’t in the public eye, however, and they still take vallaslin. I know Nehn, though. I guarantee she put more thought into what outfit she would wear today than the decision to remove her tattoos. Every life changing choice she’s made - whether it was to marry Garel or attend the Conclave - has been done in a split second based on instinct alone,” Ayla sighed.

“You’re right about that. She’ll make an alliance with rebel mages or exile the Grey Wardens in an instant. Ask her what she wants for breakfast, and she’ll still be vacillating two hours later,” Cullen agreed.

“I’ve never known her instincts to lead her astray -at least not until now. Who was this Solas that he held so much sway over her?” Ayla wondered.

“He was an apostate who offered his aid when the Breach first opened,” Cullen answered. “He claimed no affiliation with city or Dalish elves and wielded unusual magic. We were so busy fighting Corypheus that we didn’t really pay much attention to the inconsistencies in his story, although it all made sense when we discovered he was an ancient elf." Cullen studied his hands for a moment and then added, “He and Nehn were ... close. I think their relationship colored her perception of him.”

“They were lovers?” Ayla asked with astonishment.

“At one time, yes. When their physical relationship ended, they remained friends. He was like a mentor to her.”

“That helps me understand her choice. She trusted him,” Ayla said quietly.

“What do you think will come of all this?” Cullen questioned.

“When I was with them, Deshanna was leaning toward declaring Nehn _banal_. Seranna was advocating giving Nehn more time to come to her senses about the gods - that the past year had put her under enormous stress and had made her unstable. Her mother could do little more than cry,” Ayla recounted.

“And her father?”

Ayla smiled, “Meryn was emphatic that Deshanna should mind her own business. He said Nehn had earned the right to have her own beliefs and seek her own happiness. That we wouldn’t even be around to be debating her choices if it weren’t for her actions with the Inquisition.”  

“I agreed with him for what it’s worth. I’m just not sure it will be enough. Deshanna has been jealous of Nehn’s notoriety and hates feeling indebted to a former apprentice. That may guide her choice as much as a desire to preserve our culture. On the other hand, Deshanna is politically astute. She knows that she needs the Inquisition’s support if the clan is to remain in Wycome.”

“So even the Dalish play the Orleasians’ Game...” Cullen said with disgust.

“Where there are people there are politics,” Ayla noted. “The Dalish aren’t exempt. In any event, we should know Deshanna’s decision soon.” Ayla gesticulated to Nehn, her family, and Deshanna who had just entered the room.

Deshanna glided toward Ayla and Cullen looking imperious and cool. “Commander, how nice to meet you in person. Our clan is grateful for the assistance the Inquisition provided to us at your behest,” she said regally, and Cullen thought how much the old Keeper reminded him of Vivienne which wasn’t a good thing.

“The Inquisition was happy to assist,” Cullen replied with a bow.

Deshanna gave a curt nod and then made sure that all eyes were on her before announcing, “Although our clan is grateful to the Inquisition and its Inquisitor, I am concerned for you and your choices, Nehn.”

Nehn’s eyes briefly made contact with Deshanna’s and then fell to the floor. Cullen could tell she was bracing herself for the worst, and he felt awful for putting her in this position with his poorly conceived surprise. _Please, Deshanna, please don’t reject her,_ he thought as a lump formed in his throat.

“Your sister has reminded me that you’ve been under a great deal of stress this past year, and your father has rightfully pointed out how your sacrifices have ensured our continued freedom. Rejecting your faith and its symbols, however, is a grave matter.”

Nehn took a shuddering breath and raised her eyes to meet Deshanna’s. The gray haired Keeper kept talking, “After careful consideration, I’m afraid that I must censure you. The clan will be made aware of your failings, and your assertions about our pantheon will be discussed no further amongst us unless you are able to provide tangible evidence of your claims.”

To Cullen’s confusion, Nehn began to cry happy tears and hugged Deshanna while thanking her profusely. “What just happened?” he whispered to Ayla.

“Deshanna showed mercy or at least common sense. She gave Nehn a slap on the wrist - nothing more,” Ayla said with a wink.

“Thank the Maker,” Cullen breathed.

“Don’t say that too loudly,” Ayla teased. “You are surrounded by a bunch of Dalish after all."


	115. Chapter 115

After what seemed an interminably long and anxiety ridden day, Cullen wanted nothing more than to make slow, meditative love to Nehn. As they entered their chambers, he let his hand wander away from her waist and to her rear before leaning down to nip at her neck and whisper, “I want to spend the night making things up to you.”

“Cullen, I’m not angry with you...,” Nehn protested, but Cullen wouldn’t hear it and covered her mouth with his own in a needy kiss.

When he finally broke away, he breathed, “Please, I need to show you how sorry I am. I wanted to make you happy...”

“There’s nothing to forgive Cullen. It turned out well even,” Nehn soothed but Cullen remained unconvinced.

Putting his forehead to hers and closing his eyes, Cullen chastised himself. “But it could have gone so wrong. I should have...”

“Stop,” Nehn said gently and then ran her fingers through Cullen’s hair. “I love you, Cullen. I won’t let you berate yourself - you meant well.” When Cullen looked like he might protest her words, Nehn pursed her lips in annoyance and then declared authoritatively, “Stop fretting and kiss me, Commander.”

Cullen smirked and pulled Nehn closer to him. “With pleasure, Inquisitor,” he answered before kissing her softly at first and then with deepening urgency. Cullen’s original thought of making love contemplatively was quickly cast aside in favor of giving himself over to passion fully when he felt Nehn shimmy out of her smalls and then tug at his breeches. Not even bothering to remove her robe, he hiked her dress up about her waist and pressed her against a pillar.

Freeing himself from his trousers, he didn’t hesitate to take Nehn as she squeaked her approval. For as much as he loved taking his time with her, Nehn seemed to relish a quick tumble almost as much. He couldn’t quite understand why, but he wasn’t about to complain - especially when she would invariably wake him up later for a less rushed round of sex.

When he had spent himself, he rested his head against Nehn’s shoulder while whispering his adoration before withdrawing with a shudder. “Maker...” he cursed while she giggled and kissed his neck. “What you do to me...” he said breathlessly as Nehn gloated smugly. Their reverie was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

After quickly righting themselves, Cullen opened the door and barked, “What is it?” at the soldier who cringed in the doorway.

“Knight-Captain Rylen wishes to speak with you, sir,” the soldier replied although Nehn noticed he shifted uncomfortably as he spoke.

“What’s really going on?” Nehn asked while folding her arms. 

The soldier’s eyes widened before he groused, “I knew I’d be shite for this. Can’t bluff to save my hide.... They’re throwing the Commander a bachelor party, Inquisitor.”

“I told them specifically I didn’t want that nonsense,” Cullen growled.

“I’m just the messenger, sir,” the soldier replied warily. 

“Go on. Have a good time,” Nehn said while giving Cullen a peck on the cheek. 

“I hardly consider having strange women shove their breasts in my face having a good time,” Cullen complained as he grabbed his coat.

“And that’s why I’m not in a jealous rage,” Nehn answered with a wink. “Go have a few drinks. Relax and enjoy your friends. You might even have fun.”

 

********************************

Cullen’s bachelor party was no small affair. In fact as Cullen looked around the tavern that had been rented out, he was fairly certain there were more people there than were invited to the actual wedding ceremony. Soon he was surrounded by a collection of his officers who had obviously been freely indulging in the open bar prior to his arrival.

“Who’s on duty?” Cullen scowled. 

“Chamberterre and Filmont, sir,” one of the Knight-Lieutenants answered while shoving a flagon of ale in Cullen’s hands. 

“A drink to the Commander’s last night of freedom!” Rylen yelled at the top of his lungs while the assembled men cheered loudly. Cullen reluctantly took a drag of his ale and was pleased that his soldiers had poured his favorite. _Maybe this won’t be such a bad thing after all,_ he thought as he downed the drink and called for another to the delight of the crowd.

Soon his officers and friends were each taking turns toasting and teasing Cullen about his relationship with Nehn and tentativeness around women in general. Cullen took their ribbing good-naturedly although his eyes narrowed when Isabela teased him about how he blushed bright red whenever he got within a city block of the Blooming Rose. To everyone’s surprise, Cullen laughed when Bull congratulated him on locking down the finest ass in Thedas and then commended Bull for his excellent _ass_ essment of Nehn’s _ass_ ets.

Varric finally stood up and waited for the room to grow quiet, “Back in Kirkwall if someone had told me that Curly would leave the templars and marry a mage, I’d have been certain they were batshit crazy. Now I can’t imagine him with anyone else.” Raising his tankard, Varric saluted, “To plot twists - the good kind.”

With the toasts out of the way, the party turned to old fashioned debauchery with strippers that Iron Bull had personally selected as well as an assortment of alcohols chosen to meet Dorian and Fenris’ exacting specifications. To Bull’s dismay, Cullen paid little attention to the entertainers and instead spent the night drinking ale and catching up with his brother and friends. Sera and Isabela more than made up for Cullen’s lack of enthusiasm for the performers, however, as they hooted and hollered their approval of every gyration.

As the party wound down, Cullen thanked everyone for a great night and stumbled back to Suledin Keep arm in arm with his brother while singing a rousing rendition of “Andraste’s Mabari.” While Cullen was away, Nehn had spent time with Ayla, her mother, and her sister before taking Ahren from Bran’s wife Lyssa’s exhausted arms. Nehn had just finished rocking the boy to sleep when Cullen and Bran’s rowdy and out-of-tune singing woke him up.

“Fenedhis!” Nehn cursed as Ahren started to cry. Cullen and Branson teetered into the room, loudly hushing each other, and blaming the other’s bad voice for disturbing the boy. Lyssa gave Bran a scathing look and collected Ahren from Nehn’s arms before marching away in a snit.

“It’ll be the couch for me tonight,” Bran slurred to Cullen while clapping him on the shoulder. “Hope you have better luck, big brother.”

“None needed,” Cullen answered cheerfully. “I’m marrying the finest ass in Thedas in a few hours.”

“Elgar’nan! How much did you drink, Cullen?” Nehn asked in astonishment.

“Enough evidently,” Cullen answered with a snort.

Nehn shook her head and sighed. Cullen’s alcohol tolerance was as poor as her own. _At least he’s a funny drunk..._ Nehn thought as she looped a hand about his waist and guided him to their bedroom. As she helped him get ready for bed, Cullen alternated between making goofy declarations of his love and praising her rear as evidence for the Maker’s existence.

“I hope you aren’t entirely hung over at our wedding,” Nehn said as she crawled into bed beside Cullen. “When I said to have fun, I didn’t mean coming home pickled.”

“At least I refrained from dancing on tables,” Cullen rejoined. “Although it was quite tempting...” he added before snuggling up to Nehn and starting to snore loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So wedding next... Getting the vows right will be tough as Nehn and Cullen are both relatively private people. I have a hard time imagining either of them being too wordy or effusive in front of a crowd. In fact, I imagine I'll have to write some sort of private scene between them where they lay their hearts bare before going through the motions in front of others. Agree? Disagree? 
> 
> I'd love input on what you want to see at the wedding, too. I have my own visual images of decorations, dresses... etc. Do you want descriptions of that, or would you rather be able to insert your own? 
> 
> Quite possibly overthinking the next chapter. I just really want to get it right. Gah!


	116. Chapter 116

Cullen’s thrashing woke Nehn shortly before dawn. _Another nightmare,_ she thought sadly as she fought the urge to join him in the Fade to help him confront his demons directly. She hated that he refused to let her use her lucid dreaming abilities to help him, but she respected his privacy as well as understood his concern that he might somehow harm her in his confusion and panic. Putting one hand on his sword arm and the other on his chest, she gently roused him from his dreams.

As usual, he awoke disoriented with fear-filled eyes before recognizing where he was and who he was with. Sinking back into the pillow with an exhausted sigh, he gave Nehn a weary look before apologizing for bothering her.

“It isn’t a bother. I only wish I could take the nightmares away,” Nehn said sweetly as she moved a sweat-soaked strand of hair off Cullen’s forehead. Cullen never went more than a week without reliving the torture he experienced during the Blight and the terror he saw in Kirkwall in his dreams. Both Nehn and he had hoped that the nightmares would abate as his physical and psychological lyrium withdrawals improved. Unfortunately his getting clean had only served to make them worse. 

Cullen sat up and stretched before putting his arms around Nehn. “Waking up to you almost makes it worthwhile,” he said before kissing her forehead.

“How are you feeling? Are you very hung over?” Nehn quizzed concerned about how intoxicated he had gotten the night before. 

“Just a headache - barely worse than my usual,” Cullen answered.

Nehn pressed him back down on the bed and then crawled on top of him before summoning healing magic. Regenerative magics were her very favorites to perform, so she happily hummed old elven tunes as she massaged Cullen’s temples, neck, and shoulders while sending pulses of energy through his body. For his part, Cullen was absolutely at ease even though Nehn was channeling a good deal of magic into him. He’d long since given up any hesitations he had about Nehn’s talents in favor of simply enjoying her soft touch and sweet smell as she worked.

When Nehn finished her spellcasting, Cullen found himself torn between feeling tired and amorous. Blissfully pain free for the moment, he debated whether his time would be better spent sleeping or having sex. Running his hand along Nehn’s back, he tried to read which direction she was leaning and was flummoxed by the anxious look on her face. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“I’m just nervous. The wedding... the reception... it’s a whole lot of public speaking and being watched. Is it too late to just elope?”

“I’m rather certain Leliana and Josephine would have our heads if we did,” Cullen answered as he sat up while Nehn stayed perched on his lap. When he was upright, Nehn cuddled up to him resting her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder while wrapping her legs about him. 

“I love you,” she breathed against his neck.

“I should hope so. We _are_ getting married today,” he said with a chuckle before enveloping her in his arms. Few people saw this side of Nehn - fragile and vulnerable, and he loved that she trusted him enough to lean on his strength when her nerves got the better of her.

She stayed happily tucked in his arms for a few minutes before sitting back. “I’ve got something for you,” she said while climbing off his lap. She pattered across the room and began to dig through her trunk before hiding something behind her back and returning to bed.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” she directed, and he reluctantly complied. He hadn’t bought her a gift to mark the day and was mentally berating himself for the mistake.

She put something solid in his hands and told him to open his eyes. Following her commands, he saw a puzzle box and wondered if she was giving him the one Garel had made for her years ago. Then he noticed this box was different - made of oak rather than sylvanwood. Instead of plain polished wood, its sides were decorated with carvings showing places important to them like the chess table in Skyhold’s garden where they became friends.

“This is... Nehn, this is amazing,” he stammered. Running his thumb over a depiction of their quiet space in the Skyhold dungeons, he looked at Nehn in awe. “How did you make this?”

“I had help. Sionn built the box. Falon did the carvings. The ones at Skyhold were easy for him. I had some of our more artistic scouts sketch the lake at Honnleath and our balcony at the Winter Palace for him to use as references.” 

“No wonder you’ve been disappointed that he wants to be an archer. Falon is an artist,” Cullen said studying the intricate detail of his carving.

“Go on... open it,” Nehn encouraged.

“Do I get the same payoff you had for success?” he teased.

“Cullen...” 

“Just asking,” he said while holding his hands up in mock surrender before working the box while Nehn watched his every move and corrected his mistakes. “See this is what Garel _should_ have done,” Cullen joked. “No weeks of waiting for you to figure it out yourself.”

Nehn stuck her tongue out and playfully snipped, “I can stop if you don’t want my help.”

“I rather like it,” Cullen replied before giving her a soft kiss.

With Nehn’s assistance, he opened the box and found a token inside. Like Nehn, the coin was from the Free Marches although its face had been pressed clean so a simple inscription could be added beneath a rune on its surface. The words were in elven, however, so Cullen had to ask for a translation. 

“It says, _Las vir lath vir suledin bellanaris ._ which means, _May our love endure forever_. The rune provides protective enchantments,” Nehn said and then queried nervously. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it,” Cullen said while clutching the coin and then kissing Nehn. “Thank you.”

Nehn bounced happily and his response before giving him a flirtatious wink and saying, “About that other payoff...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not procrastinating writing the wedding by adding more fluff (Okay, well maybe I am ... but hey fluff!) Thanks to everyone for their sweet words and encouragement over my anxiety about getting their big day right. Now to get what's in my head on to paper.


	117. Chapter 117

Josephine had arranged a large breakfast buffet for the wedding guests and participants. As Nehn piled her plate high with pastries, her mother gave her a disapproving glare, so Nehn reluctantly put back the sweets she had assembled and got some eggs and fruit instead. Looking dejectedly at her plate, Nehn pushed the eggs around and sighed. Noticing her upset and taking stock of what was on her plate, Cullen surreptitiously passed Nehn his blueberry muffin while positioning himself to block Ami Sylain’s view of Nehn gobbling it down.

“Best boyfriend ever,” Nehn chirped contentedly after having gotten her sugar fix. 

“Curly’s just being smart. No one wants to deal with you on an empty stomach,” Varric teased in his gravelly voice which earned a chuckle from Cullen and a growl from Nehn. “Better pass Sassy another muffin, she’s still surly,” Varric added before leaving to refill his coffee.

Ayla, Asha, and Sylvia soon appeared beside Nehn and stared at her expectantly. Gesturing at her plate while trying to swallow a mouthful of eggs, Nehn pretended like she didn’t know what they wanted.

“Enough stalling. We need to start primping,” Ayla announced while Nehn whimpered. Although she loved how she felt once she was all done up, she hated the process. Feeling jealous of Cullen who only had to change clothes and _maybe_ style his hair to get ready, Nehn briefly wished she was a man or that beauty standards for men and women were more equitable.

“Fine. I’m coming, but if one of you tries to put mud on my face...” Nehn warned.

“It isn’t _mud_ , my dear. It’s a clarifying _masque_ ,” Vivienne condescended from across the table.

“I’m still okay with eloping,” Nehn whispered to Cullen before taking Sylvia’s hand and sulking out of the room.

“She’ll come round once they start the massages,” Dorian commented to Cullen when he noticed concern on the warrior’s face. “She just hates being the center of attention which is rather amusing all things considered.” 

******************  
True to Dorian’s prediction, Nehn had started to enjoy her morning of pampering as a handsome Tal Vashoth kneaded her shoulders with scented oil. “This part isn’t half bad,” she admitted to Sylvia who was seated nearby getting a scalp massage.

“Mmm hmmm...” Sylvia agreed contentedly. “Our men should take lessons.”

Dorian sauntered into the room to check on everyone’s progress. Seranna gasped at his presence as many of the women present were in various states of undress. Dorian simply rolled his eyes at her alarm and flounced over to Nehn.

“I just thought to ask something. I know you have a tendency to put things off...” he said casually. “I’m curious as to whether you’ve written your vows just yet.”

When Nehn groaned, Dorian had his answer. “Vishante kaffas, woman. Were you planning to just ad lib your way through it?”

“Probably, maybe... I don’t know,” Nehn admitted while the Tal Vashoth masseur scowled at the knots that had re-formed in her shoulders.

“I’ve had to suffer through hearing countless versions of Cullen’s vows, and you haven’t even gotten a first draft?” he asked with disdainful disbelief.

“Don’t worry, Dorian. I think better on my feet anyway,” Nehn contended and then yelped as the masseur tried to break up a particularly stubborn knot.

“For Cullen’s sake, I hope you’re right,” Dorian snapped and then turned to the masseur. “Be careful. She bruises easily, and her dress is strapless.”

“I love you, too, Dorian,” Nehn said which caused him to make a disgusted grunt.

“You’d better not disappoint me - or my other best friend,” he stated before turning on his heel and making a grand exit.

“No pressure,” Nehn grumbled before sitting up and waving the masseur away.

*********************  
A few hours later, Ayla was putting the finishing touches on Nehn’s makeup while Sylvia fretted with the bouquet of flowers Nehn would be carrying. 

“I wish you weren’t allergic to absolutely _everything_ , Mamae. Silk flowers just aren’t the same,” she bemoaned.

“Better silk than sneezing, da’len,” Nehn retorted. “Besides silk flowers don’t wilt.”

“I suppose,” Sylvia said still clearly disappointed by the lack of real roses and lilies.

“Could you will a bouquet of flowers that wouldn’t make you sneeze?” Asha pondered and then clearly started trying to magic just that.

“Asha stop. That type of nature magic is tricky,” Nehn warned. “I don’t want the keep covered in shrubberies.” 

Asha stomped on a scraggly vine that had popped up at her feet, but the plant kept growing. Noticing the encroaching weed, Deshanna dispelled Asha’s magic and gave the young mage a stern look. “Just like your mother,” she huffed. “Always pushing the limits of what is reasonable when it comes to magic.”

Lysette gently reminded Asha that she could dispel her own magical mistakes and didn’t need to wait for someone else to do it. Although she was still Asha’s protector, Lysette no longer actively governed Asha’s magic. Her confidence in Asha’s abilities was so certain that she had asked permission to stop taking lyrium after Corypheus’ defeat. With Cullen’s guidance, Lysette had weaned herself off lyrium and had recently stopped taking philters entirely. Having spent a little over a year as a full templar, Lysette’s transition off lyrium created few physical withdrawals although she still fought cravings - especially when stressed. Asha nodded her understanding of Lysette’s reminder and picked up the remnants of the squashed plant off the floor.

With Nehn’s makeup finished and Sylvia as satisfied with the bouquet as she could be, it was time for Nehn to put on her dress. After having tried dozens of options from throughout Thedas, Nehn (with Dorian’s guidance) had finally settled on having the tailors at Skyhold construct an outfit for her. The result was an elegantly simple strapless silk shift that was fitted through the bodice and then flared in a subtle a-line. The pale blue gown was crisply tailored with no ornamentation save a band of silver embroidery and clear crystal beading around the top of the dress.

Wearing subtle makeup and no jewelry other than a simple pair of diamond earrings, Nehn’s look was one of carefully restrained splendor. Choosing to style her wavy auburn hair to Cullen’s preferences, Nehn wore it down with the sides pulled back loosely and held by a comb with beading to match her dress. After Lysette, Ayla, Seranna, and Nehn’s mother said their goodbye to take their seats for the wedding, Nehn’s anxiety ramped up to full speed.

Not wanting to sit down and wrinkle her dress, Nehn began to pace about the room frantically while Ginger the mabari watchfully tracked her movements until she howled plaintively and covered her eyes with her paws. “Mamae, you’re even worrying the dog,” Sylvia chided which only served to make Nehn self-conscious about her nervous energy.

A knock on the door froze Nehn in her tracks as she guessed it would be Falon coming to escort her down the aisle. Ayla bounced over to open the door and instead found Cullen standing alone shielding his eyes. “I don’t want to spoil any surprises,” he said. “I just wanted to speak with Nehn for a moment.”

“I’d like that very much,” Nehn said rapidly her voice ripe with panic.

“She can stand behind the dressing screen, so you won’t see her outfit,” Sylvia added while guiding Nehn behind the partition.

Once Asha and Sylvia had given him the all clear and departed, Cullen opened his eyes and came inside the room. Taking off one of his gloves and offering his hand to Nehn around the divider, he said, “Events like this aren’t easy on either of us, but I just wanted you to know how very happy I am to be starting a life with you. I may not always get it right, but I’ll try my best to keep you feeling safe, happy, and loved.”

Holding Cullen’s hand and hearing his voice stilled Nehn’s nerves. Putting his hand to her cheek, she said, “Cullen, I may totally botch saying my vows or trip on the way to the altar, but I want you to know that I love you and want to be with you in this world and the next. You are my vhenan’ara, my heart’s desire.”

“We’re as good as married now,” he chuckled while running his thumb reassuringly over the top of her hand. “I’ll see you in a little while, love. I’ll be the one down front looking like he can’t believe his good fortune,” he said before kissing her hand and leaving the room.

Falon and Meryn came in the room as Cullen departed. “I thought we might both walk you down the aisle,” Meryn ventured. 

Having her father’s tacit acceptance of her marriage to Cullen took a weight off Nehn that she didn’t even know she had been carrying. Throwing her arms around her father’s neck, she thanked him profusely while fighting off the urge to cry. _Don’t mess up your makeup, silly_ she told herself.

“Ready, Mamae?” Falon asked while offering his arm. Nehn took a deep breath and nodded vigorously.

While several elaborate receptions were planned for later, the wedding itself was a small affair with less than sixty people in attendance. One of Suledin’s courtyards had been decorated for the evening ceremony with hundreds of small runes that glowed like stars while a candle-lined staircase flanked by two large halla statues would serve as their altar. The effect was both beautiful and romantic and even Vivienne murmured her appreciation for the setting and decor.

As a harpist played the elven wedding song that Nehn and Asha had sung at Sylvia’s wedding, Cullen took his place at the landing atop the stairs joined by his brother and Dorian. Sylvia and Asha stood on the other side of the landing holding small lanterns in their hands rather than flowers. Everyone in the wedding party wore clothes made of deep blue silks and velvets. Cullen’s formal blue uniform was highlighted with silver epaulets and a sash made from the same pale blue silk Nehn was wearing. 

Nehn and Cullen had talked Cassandra into being the unofficial officiant for the ceremony. Although her acceptance was reluctant, she stood proudly at the center of the altar wearing a dress uniform while secretly relishing being a key part of such a romantic event. 

Once everyone but the bride had taken their place at the altar, the harpist began to play a traditional Ferelden wedding march. Falon and Meryn walked Nehn down the aisle flanking her on either side. Seeing Nehn in her wedding dress caused Cullen to grin from ear to ear while Dorian grew misty eyed in spite of himself.

“Who brings this woman to be wed?” Cassandra asked authoritatively.

“Her son and I bring her and extend a hand of welcome to her intended,” Meryn answered while reaching out to Cullen shake his hand. Nehn smiled at her father’s impromptu deviation from the scripted response of _I do_ and the warmth his action communicated. Leaving her son and father, Nehn took Cullen’s hand while blushing shyly at all of them people watching them.

Cassandra smiled briefly at Nehn and Cullen before clearing her throat, “Commander Cullen asked me to find excerpts from love poems to read at this ceremony. Locating passages that could adequately convey how dear these two people are to me and each other proved no easy task. Taking a cue from the Inquisitor, I decided to delegate my duty,” she said with a wry smile at Nehn while Cullen looked markedly worried. 

Undaunted by Cullen’s alarm, Cassandra continued, “I spoke to Cole about my dilemma, and his words provided their own poetry. With his permission, I share them with you:

_Small and spirited, she burns brightly in both worlds. Treading a twisting, turning path to peace she seeks another to share her journey._

_Cautious but caring, broken but unbowed, he perseveres at her urging. Her support sweet, soothing succor in a time of uncertainty. A piece of himself long thought lost, now found._

_A sacred space shared between them... refreshing, renewing body and spirit. Friendship turns to love as they play a game neither can lose. Setting aside Pride, Hope joins Determination, and together they find joy._

_Pieces of a puzzle that slide into place to reveal hidden treasure, their hearts and spirits entwine and unlock. One love, one life from this day forward._

“Wow,” Nehn mouthed to Cullen who agreed with her assessment.

“Now I would ask that you state your intentions in the sight of those assembled here,” Cassandra said while turning to Nehn.

Briefly dumbstruck, Nehn looked deeply into Cullen’s eyes and found her voice as well as settled on the words she wanted to say. “I, Sulahn’nehn Vir’numin Lavellan, take you, Cullen Stanton Rutherford, as my bondmate and husband, lover and friend. I give you my hand because you already hold my heart. I promise to be faithful, loving, and kind to you from this day forward until time ends.”

Cullen’s eyes twinkled at Nehn’s words, but he said nothing. Cassandra leaned over and whispered, “Cullen, it’s your turn.”

“Oh, right,” he said nervously and then grabbed the back of his neck. “I wrote a hundred different versions of what I wanted to say in this moment... and I’m afraid I’ve forgotten them all,” he stammered while Nehn laughed and put her hand on his cheek.

Taking a deep breath, Cullen said, “The words don’t matter though. The intention does. I want you to know that I will be your comforter and protector. That your well being and needs will come before my own. And that a day will not pass in this world or the next that I won’t be grateful for the privilege of calling you my friend, my love, and my wife.”

Cassandra beamed approvingly at Cullen’s words and then said, “Do you have symbols of your devotion to share?”

Cullen fiddled around in his pocket nervously before turning pale. Branson tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a ring. “You left it on the dresser,” Bran explained in a low voice.

“I suppose I was more nervous than I realized,” Cullen whispered uneasily to his brother and Nehn. Nehn winked at his admission and smiled knowingly. 

After patting his hand reassuringly, she declared, “Take this ring as a symbol of my never ending love and commitment. I am yours, and you are mine from this day onward,” before putting it on the fourth finger of his left hand.

Following Nehn’s cue, Cullen repeated her words and placed his grandmother’s ring on the index finger of her left hand.

“You may kiss if you so desire,” Cassandra said, and Cullen didn’t hesitate to act on Cassandra’s suggestion. Although his impulse was to linger, he kept the kiss brief and relatively chaste in light of the many eyes watching them. Bowing to Nehn, he gave her his arm and led her down the aisle and into a private room where he kissed her the way he wanted to begin with. Stopping for a moment, he said, “I just realized I’m holding my wife,” while a dopey grin spread across his face. “I think I rather like that.”


	118. Chapter 118

Nehn flopped on her pillow covered bed at Skyhold and declared that she refused to move ... ever. Having spent the past week attending parties and receptions in honor of her victory over Corypheus and marriage to Cullen, she sorely needed quiet time to recharge. Cullen looked at her sympathetically. Meeting scads of nobles and Inquisition supporters had been equally draining for him.

“Next time we get married... I demand that we get a honeymoon,” Nehn stated emphatically.

“Duly noted,” Cullen responded and then kissed Nehn on the forehead. “I’d join you in hiding out in bed, but I need to meet with my officers and begin to reorganize our forces. With Corypheus defeated, many of our soldiers are returning to their former lives although a surprising number are choosing to remain with us.”

“Do we still actually _need_ an army?” 

“Is that a serious question?” Cullen threw back. “While Josephine’s diplomacy and Leliana’s spies are useful, it is our military strength that gives weight to the Inquisition’s words.”

“But wasn’t the point of the Inquisition to determine the cause of the Breach and fix it? Can’t we just retire someplace warm and sunny?” Nehn whined while burrowing into her pillows.

“There are still Venatori, Red Templars, and fade rifts to manage. Your encounter with the Jaws of Hakkon shows that the Inquisition is still needed even with Corypheus gone,” Cullen argued while giving Nehn a reproachful glare.

“Wrong answer,” Nehn groaned. “Do you want to try again?”

Cullen chuckled. “I’ll tell Josie to reschedule your meetings. Take a nap, read a smutty novel, go pranking with Sera ... You clearly need a break.”

“Don’t you?”

“I’m ready to return to work. I like the routine, and I’ve missed my men,” Cullen admitted.

“At least one of us likes their job,” Nehn bemoaned which made Cullen raise an eyebrow. 

Nehn made a disgusted noise and said, “Okay, fine... I’ll stop whining on one condition.”

“Which is?” 

“You promise to meet me for a picnic supper at our spot in the dungeon. No armor. No excuses or rain checks. No discussion of the Inquisition. Just us,” Nehn bargained.

“Gladly,” Cullen answered while playfully saluting Nehn. “Is there anything else you would have me do, Inquisitor?” he asked with a husky timbre to his voice.

“Maybe...” Nehn replied with a coquettish lilt. “We’ll just have to see.”

A few hours later, Nehn woke up to find Sylvia shaking her. “Mamae, the baby is pressing on my back funny, and it’s making my leg hurt. Can you do that thing with the ice?”

Nehn sat up and wiped the sleep from her eyes. She hadn’t intended to actually be a lay-a-bed that day. Putting her hands on Sylvia’s belly, she conjured a small amount of frost magic to spur the baby to move. Sylvia sighed with relief when her child shifted. “Thank you,” she breathed and then laid down beside Nehn.

“I’m so ready for this to be over. Can’t you just ... I don’t know... make the baby come?” Sylvia asked.

“It’s better to wait, da’len. A child forced into the world too early often struggles to breathe. I expect it won’t be long before your time comes. The baby has dropped some already,” Nehn said while rubbing Sylvia’s back and sending healing energy into her swollen legs and ankles. 

Sylvia rested her head on Nehn’s shoulder and sighed. “It’s so nice having you _with_ us. I missed you this past year.”

“And I missed you, sweet girl,” Nehn answered while stroking Sylvia’s hair. Jealous of the affection between her master and the Inquisitor, Ginger hopped up on the bed and tried to wedge her way between Nehn and Sylvia. Furiously shaking her stubby tail and howling, Ginger demanded that _she_ receive her due.

While shielding her face from Ginger’s aggressive licking, Nehn giggled and then rolled out of bed. “Syl, you’ve absolutely spoiled her. She’ll have a full blown case of sibling rivalry once the baby comes.”

Sylvia scratched behind Ginger’s ears and cooed, “You’ll always be my first baby... yes you will.”

“Elgar’nan!” Nehn exclaimed while shaking her head. Sylvia was hopeless. “At the very least, could you please get the giant slobbering hound off my linens?”

Ginger gave Nehn a baleful look and jumped off the bed. “You’ve hurt her feelings!” Sylvia accused while protectively wrapping her arms around Ginger’s neck.

“She’s... a.... dog,” Nehn protested.

“She’s a _person_ ,” Sylvia emphasized.

“Ugh...” Nehn said while rolling her eyes. Ignoring her mother, Sylvia continued patting and praising her dog. “Well, at least she managed to get me out of bed,” Nehn admitted reluctantly and then went to her desk to retrieve a dog treat. For all her bluster about Ginger, Nehn actually doled out the most treats of anyone to the mabari.

“Here, Ginger,” Nehn called, and the dog bounded over to her. “Will you be a good girl and stay off my bed, please?” Ginger barked happily and wagged her tail. “Thank you,” Nehn said while tossing her a piece of druffalo jerky.

“Who’s spoiling her now?” Sylvia said reproachfully.

“She’s my grand-dog. Spoiling is expected,” Nehn retorted. “Besides, she looked hungry.”

***********************

For all her talk of retiring, Nehn felt incredibly sad as she walked around the main keep. So many faces were missing - servants, courtiers, guards that had gone back to the lives they had before the Inquisition began. Morrigan and Kieran had vanished shortly after Corypheus’ defeat. Nehn hoped that they were reuniting with the Hero of Ferelden and that Mythal would leave them in peace, but Asha was broken hearted to have lost her friend. 

Some of her inner circle had already left or were planning to do so shortly. Fenris had been the first to go taking off immediately after Cullen and Nehn’s wedding. While he told Nehn that she could always call on him, he wanted to get back to hunting (and killing) slavers. Although he didn’t say as much, Nehn also suspected that Fenris wanted to see Merrill and Hawke’s infant twins Marethari and Leandra. 

On the return trip to Skyhold after the wedding, Zevran broke the news that he would be continuing on to Antiva. He hoped to negotiate some sort of detente with the Crows so that he could join Cassandra on her quest to rebuild the Seekers. While they had initially seemed an unlikely pairing, Zevran and Cassandra had proven to be a good match. They were both deeply romantic and sentimental people who cherished each other. Zevran’s tenacious optimism provided a good counterbalance to Cassandra’s dour realism while Cassandra’s integrity challenged Zevran to be a better person. Although Cassandra might never admit it, Nehn also suspected that the two were well paired as lovers. Zevran’s once notorious roving eye never strayed from Cassandra after their first night together.

Leliana was busy grooming Charter and some of her other agents to replace her as Spymaster. After much debate, the Chantry had finally named the date of Leliana’s ascension to the Sunburst Throne. She would be anointed as Divine Victoria, the first of her name, in two month’s time. Nehn hoped that Leliana could reform the Chantry without too much strife, but the changes Leliana had planned were immense. Nehn had vowed to lend the Inquisition’s support if needed, but Leliana seemed convinced her path was ordained and that the people would follow. 

Dorian had toyed with the idea of returning to Tevinter, but Nehn’s tearful protestations and Iron Bull’s commitment to remaining with the Inquisition convinced him to stay. Even Varric had started hinting that he planned to return to Kirkwall to help with relief efforts. Nehn expected that he would leave as soon as they cleared out the last few remaining rifts around Thedas. _He no doubt wants to be with Hawke as well._ As close as they were, Nehn knew her friendship with Varric paled when compared with his devotion to the Champion.

For as much as Nehn hoped that her tenure with the Inquisition might end, Vivienne seemed determined to remain until a better opportunity to grasp for power presented itself. _At least Sera and Cole plan on sticking around_ , Nehn thought as she glared up at the balcony Vivienne had claimed for herself. _They’ll keep that ice witch’s ego in check._

The loss Nehn felt most keenly, however, was that of Solas. She could hardly tolerate walking into his study. The unfinished last panel of his mural bothered her greatly. She couldn’t parse its meaning or tell what it was depicting. _Is that two dragons or a dragon and a wolf?_ she wondered. _He really should have stuck around to finish it. Puzzles like this drive me mad._

She also pondered if Solas would have stayed had the orb not broken and berated herself for not saving it. She worried where he went and whether he was alone. For as much as espoused being a hermit, Nehn knew Solas desperately wanted to connect with people. She also had the nagging sensation that there was still unfinished business between them. At times she could swear that she sensed him at the edges of her dreams even. She’d call out to him, but there was never a reply - just a pervasive sense of regret. _Ir abelas, hahren,_ she thought sadly. _I wish I had done better._

Still there was work to do. Alliances to strengthen. Coffers to bolster. Arguments to settle. Nehn knew such things were important, but they simply didn’t interest her. Her nomadic nature liked being afield - actively serving and helping people. Politics felt artificial and staying in one place stifling. If it weren’t for her family, Nehn guessed that remaining as a figurehead in Skyhold would eventually drive her insane, but she enjoyed being a part of Syl and Falon’s lives and looked forward to mentoring Asha’s magic. The idea of having children with Cullen made settling down more palatable as well although she still fretted whether she could be a good mother to a human.

After an afternoon of writing thank you notes for wedding gifts under Josephine’s watchful (and critical) eye, Nehn went to the kitchens to prepare a meal for Cullen and her to share. As the head cook scowled at Nehn for messing up her newly cleaned workspace, Nehn made a Ferelden stew from Mia’s recipe. Making meals for Cullen was one of the ways she showed him her love. His battles with addiction often affected his appetite, but he adored Nehn’s cooking and was able to tolerate it on days when nausea would have kept him from eating otherwise. Nehn smiled thinking about the boyish gleam Cullen got in his eyes when she made dishes from his childhood and how he would tentatively sample Dalish foods and then gobble them down with abandon. 

Loading a tray with stew, bread, cheese, and weakened ale, Nehn carefully made her way to their meeting spot in the dungeons. If anyone thought it odd seeing the Inquisitor taking a large tray of food to the empty prisons, they said nothing although the guard on duty was grateful for the serving of stew Nehn gave him in return for his silence. In actuality, nearly everyone of import knew where Nehn’s hiding spot was, but they respected her enough to give her a space to collect herself and her thoughts. Leliana occasionally threatened to interrupt when Cullen and Nehn tarried too long, but Josephine always talked her out of it by reminding her that Nehn would be completely intractable if she was prematurely forced from her refuge.

As Nehn expected, Cullen showed up right on time and without his armor. _I do love how well he follows orders,_ Nehn thought as she gave him a gentle kiss in greeting. He eagerly eyed the stew and then hunkered down to eat while Nehn watched him contentedly.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he quizzed. “You’ve barely touched your meal."

Nehn wrinkled her nose. “Nothing tastes good right now. I think all the rich foods we had at Suledin have soured my stomach. You seem ravenous, though. Take mine,” she said while offering him her bowl.

Cullen felt sheepish about eating Nehn’s food but the enticing aroma of the stew weakened his will and soon he was finishing off his third serving. “I’m afraid if you keep feeding me this well I’ll have to get a new uniform,” he joked while laying back on his elbows.

“You’d be adorable with a little paunch,” Nehn teased before laying her head on his shoulder. They sat that way for several minutes just absorbing the view and the white noise of the waterfall before Nehn spoke. “Syl’s eager to have the baby. She has _no clue_ as to how much her life is about to change, but I think she’ll be an excellent mother. She may have her hands full keeping Ginger content, though.”

“I thought Fereldens spoiled their dogs, but we’ve nothing on the Dalish,” Cullen noted.

“Not the Dalish - we rarely keep dogs,” Nehn corrected. “Sylvia is her own special case when it comes to animals. Her mother should have named her Ghilan’nain.”

“Which one is that again?”

Nehn sighed. Cullen tried to remember the elven gods but often confused their stories. “Ghilan’nain - halla mother. Legend holds she obtained apotheosis for her animal creations. I think Selah and Garel hoped Sylvia would be a hunter naming her after the woods as they did. At least Falon is leaning in that direction. Of course Garel desperately wanted him to be a craftsman. You just can never tell with children.”

“What do _you_ want for them?” Cullen queried.

“I want them to be happy and fulfilled, but I’d also like them to be safe. I’d prefer if Sylvia didn’t risk getting kicked by horses and Falon returned to crafting rather than archery. As far as Asha... I don’t even know where to begin with her. But they are their own people. They deserve to make their own choices - within reason.”

“That _within reason_ part will be especially challenging with Asha,” Cullen said with a wink.

“I must constantly remind myself that as a mage her having such a strong will is a blessing. It is just... challenging at times.”

“I would guess you’re talking about her working with that odd rift mage,” Cullen mentioned.

“Learning Knight Enchanter skills is worrisome enough. Why she feels the need to also study rift magic...” Nehn took a deep breath and cast a calming aura. “Best not to think about it.”

“You could tell her, _No_ ,” Cullen suggested.

“And make it a forbidden fruit? No, it’s better to let her get her curiosities out of the way while she’s young and well-supervised.”

“The voice of experience?” Cullen quizzed.

“You could say that. Deshanna was very rigid and reluctant to share. I did plenty of sneaking around and experimentation when it came to learning magic. Secrecy increases the risks of horrible accidents or possession. I was fortunate. Many young mages left to their own devices are not.” 

“Do you think our children will be mages?” Cullen asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Would that be a problem if they were?” Nehn questioned.

“Not a problem per se - especially with you to guide them,” Cullen said thoughtfully then added apologetically, “I'm afraid sometimes the templar in me sneaks out.”

“It’s alright, Cullen. I would be grateful if our children _didn’t_ have magic. But I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves worrying about our theoretical offspring,” she said pointedly.

Cullen chuckled and hugged Nehn to his chest. “Just a bit I suppose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So poll time - What do you want?
> 
> Avvar! conception meaning Nehn is already pregnant 
> 
> or 
> 
> some months of trying to conceive (with attendant awkwardness as Cullen starts obsessing on his _duties_ )
> 
> Let me know because I can go either way. :)


	119. Chapter 119

Nehn was hunched over a map in a dark corner of the Herald’s Rest discussing potential operations for the Chargers with Krem when one of Skyhold’s runners approached.

“Word for you, Inquisitor,” the young elven man said with a shaky voice. He’d never been called on to speak with Nehn directly before and was frankly terrified.

Nehn scowled at having her train of thought interrupted but then looked at the messenger’s worried face and softened. “I’m listening,” she answered gently.

“Your daughter. She thinks she’s in labor,” he responded anxiously.

Nehn sighed. Sylvia was so eager to have the pregnancy behind her that she was taking every twinge and practice contraction as the real thing. Nehn had been summoned to her side four times already in the past week. Reminding herself that eventually it wouldn’t be a false alarm, Nehn thanked the messenger, made her apologies to Krem, and went to find Sylvia.

When she entered their family’s quarters, Nehn saw Sylvia bracing herself against a table and panting. _Perhaps this is the real thing._ Putting her hand on Sylvia’s back reassuringly, Nehn asked how long the contractions were lasting and how close together they were.

“How the fuck should I know?” the normally demure Sylvia growled in response.

_Definitely not a false alarm,_ Nehn thought while rubbing her daughter’s lower back. Eventually Sylvia’s stance softened, and she let out a long breath.

“That _hurt_ ,” she said to Nehn accusingly.

Nehn had to fight the urge to smile. She had tried to prepare Sylvia for how intense labor pains could be, but it was truly something you couldn’t adequately describe. “It is a good pain, da’len. Pain with a purpose. As much as you are able, try not to fight the contractions. If you can, you should try to nap. First babies take the most time making their entrance. You’ll need to conserve your energy,” she said soothingly as she guided Sylvia to bed.

Sylvia laid down, and Nehn rubbed her back - applying counterpressure to the areas that were taut and corded- while singing a calming lullaby. Nehn avoided sending healing energies out, however. It was too easy to cause labor to stall at this early stage. As the knots in Sylvia’s back eased, her eyes fluttered shut. _Rest, da’len,_ Nehn thought as she patted Sylvia and then took a seat nearby.

Ten minutes passed, and Sylvia began to wince in her sleep. Nehn placed a hand on Syl’s belly and felt it harden into a tight ball. _Not bad enough to wake her, but certainly doing its job,_ Nehn noted. Stepping away briefly to get a book to read, Nehn settled in for a long day. 

From what Nehn could tell from speaking with human healers, the Dalish method of easing childbirth differed significantly from theirs. Humans tended to be up and about until the pains grew strong, and then they’d take to bed. Dalish took the opposite approach - resting in the early stages of labor and then moving about more as contractions intensified. The humans were also more inclined to intervene in deliveries - pushing on bellies, using odd equipment to extract babies, and sometimes cutting the women to provide a larger opening. Nehn thought the practices barbaric and hoped they wouldn’t prove necessary should she have a child with Cullen. She certainly wouldn’t be letting the humans anywhere near her Sylvia.

Sylvia was able to rest for much of the first few hours of her labor, but the pains eventually intensified to where she couldn’t sleep or stay comfortable. “Time to move, da’len,” Nehn said gently as she looped her arm around Sylvia’s waist and started walking. Knowing that distraction helped most women cope with birthing pains, Nehn guided Sylvia down to the stables, so she could interact with the horses and halla.

The overweight mare that Nehn had saved from foundering whinnied a welcome as they came into the barn. Sylvia’s nervousness eased being around the animals as Nehn encouraged her to do light chores like brushing the horses and cleaning saddles. When contractions came, Nehn talked Sylvia through them while Sylvia buried her face in a horse’s neck or braced herself against a fence. Through it all, Nehn stayed right beside Sylvia - rubbing her back, providing sips of water, and encouraging her to eat small morsels of food. Her goal was to keep Sylvia as calm and relaxed as possible. Sylaise held that tension worked against a womb opening efficiently, and although Nehn doubted her divinity, she saw wisdom in the Creator’s word.

Once Sylvia’s contractions were coming often and strong enough that she couldn’t really manage any chores, Nehn suggested they go collect Sionn. Sylvia’s eyes widened in terror, and Nehn had to emphasize to her that in all likelihood they were still hours away from delivery. “A man’s scents are soothing, da’len. He’ll be able to hold you and comfort you in ways I cannot,” Nehn explained. “He also needs to see what you’ve gone through to bring his child into the world.”

“But you won’t leave - will you?” Sylvia gasped.

“I will stay with you through delivery and afterward, sweet girl,” Nehn reassured. She remembered clinging desperately to Deshanna when she labored with Asha and was still grateful for the patience the old Keeper had shown her.

Sionn was a bundle of nerves at first, but Nehn pulled him aside and told him to control his emotions. “Your focus needs to be on your wife not yourself,” Nehn said forcefully. Chastened, Sionn nodded his head and turned his attentions to Sylvia. Nehn nodded approvingly as he held Syl in his arms and murmured sweet nothings in her ear while she rode out another contraction. 

Although Sylvia wanted to lie down, Nehn refused to let her. “The earth pulls on the baby and aids its coming if you’re standing,” she contended. “Besides you’re a strong Dalish woman - not some spoiled shemlen princess. We don’t take to bed when the pains come,” she added knowing that Sylvia was prideful about her heritage. Nehn’s words steeled Sylvia’s determination. She wasn’t about to act like a _human_. 

Late in the evening, Cullen returned to the family quarters to find Nehn toweling something off the tile. She looked up and smiled before saying, “Syl’s water just broke. We’ll be grandparents by this time tomorrow.”

Cullen was shocked and thrilled. “What can I do?” 

“You could see if Sionn needs a break. Syl is more demanding than I expected,” Nehn admitted. “She’s worn out our hands requesting back rubs.”

“I’ll see what I can do as soon as I get out of my armor,” Cullen said with a nod and then bounded up the stairs to their bedroom. Nehn was glad Cullen was willing to help. Falon had raced out of the apartments soon after he realized Sylvia was in labor. Asha wanted to be useful, but she was too young to provide much more than a chatty distraction to an increasingly short-tempered Sylvia.

True to his word, Cullen relieved Sionn, so the young man could have a meal. The Commander was worried that he wouldn’t know how to help Sylvia, but she quickly ordered him to rub her back and then dug her fingers into his shoulders when the next wave of birth pains arrived. Surprised by Sylvia’s strong grip, Cullen flinched and glanced over at Nehn with a concerned expression. With a subtle grin, Nehn gestured to her own wrist which was purpling from Sylvia clamping down on it earlier. 

Shortly after Sionn finished his meal, Sylvia’s contractions grew even stronger and would barely subside before beginning again. “I can’t do this. Something is wrong...” she said to Nehn in a panic.

“Nothing is wrong, da’len. This is the hardest part. Soon you’ll be ready to push. Curse or cry if it helps. There’s no shame in it,” Nehn advised.

Sylvia neither cried or cursed, she just moaned, “I can’t... I can’t....” 

Cullen and Sionn both looked absolutely mortified at her level of distress. Nehn narrowed her eyes at them and then pointed to the door. “Be useful or leave,” Nehn said sharply. Cullen quickly turned on his heel after taking Asha’s hand. Sionn stood uncertainly for a minute before taking a deep breath and going to Sylvia’s side. 

“Ma lath,” Sionn whispered to Sylvia while kissing her cheek. 

In response, Sylvia hissed, “This is all your fault,” before groaning as another contraction crested.

Nehn vividly recalled her own transitional phase of labor. She had cursed a blue streak and loudly sworn never to have sex again. By comparison, Sylvia was showing remarkable restraint. That wasn’t entirely unexpected though. Her mother Selah had barely uttered a word when she labored. Having helped many women deliver, Nehn realized there was no right way to deal with the pain although she greatly admired women like Selah who controlled their reactions so well.

After a half hour of intense contractions that left her pale and shaking, Sylvia complained, “There’s just so much pressure, mamae. Help me... please.”

“You don’t need my help, da’len. You need a birthing chair. It’s time to welcome this little one,” Nehn said with a wide smile.

Sylvia looked absolutely exhausted and unsure of herself as Nehn helped her over to the chair which had a cut out seat and wide handles for gripping. Sionn took his place behind Sylvia and began reciting Dalish prayers for a safe delivery and healthy child under his breath. Noting his pallor, Nehn got him a chair and told him to sit down. The last thing she needed was for him to faint.

After adjusting her daughter’s robes and washing her hands, Nehn checked Sylvia’s progress.

“The babe is crowning,” she said as happy tears came to her eyes. “A few good pushes, and he’ll be in your arms, da’len.”

“I can’t...” Sylvia answered. 

“You can, and you will. The baby is coming one way or another, Syl.” Placing one hand gently on Sylvia’s stomach and the other below, Nehn waited to feel another contraction build. “Take a deep breath. Now push,” she said forcefully.

Sylvia complied, and Nehn cheered her efforts. “That’s a good girl,” she praised. “I can feel his head. He has a full head of hair,” she commented.

Suddenly overcome with an intense desire to see her son, Sylvia committed fully to his delivery. After several more concentrated pushes, the baby slid out while she exhaled her relief. His strong cry brought tears to Sylvia’s eyes, while Sionn kissed her cheeks and marveled at her strength.

Nehn checked the baby over, swabbed his mouth, and handed him to Sylvia’s waiting arms. After tying off the cord and delivering the placenta, Nehn congratulated the new parents before telling Sylvia, “He’s wide awake now. Let me show you how to nurse before he gets too drowsy.” 

With the need for the birthing chair gone, Nehn helped Sylvia to bed after padding her underclothes with rags. While Sylvia was getting settled, Sionn held his son and beamed with pride. The entire process of getting the baby to latch correctly was more complicated than Sylvia had imagined, but with Nehn’s patient instruction she finally got him positioned correctly. Closing her eyes and relaxing after her milk let down, Sylvia finally understood the placid look animals got when their young suckled. Overcome with emotions, she started to cry.

Nehn kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Your mood will oscillate for some time, da’len. Your body has undergone a great deal of change. If you ever feel too tired or too stressed, remember that you have help. Sionn, Falon, Asha, Cullen, and I are here for you and your son. You aren’t alone.”

Looking at Sionn, Nehn asked, “Do you have a name?”

Glancing over at Sylvia who nodded her assent, Sionn cleared his throat and said, “His name is Garel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nehn's a grandmamae now, and little Garel will likely be the most spoiled grandchild ever. Wonder what Cullen should go by? What do you think Ferelden's call their grandfathers - Pop, Grandpa, Papaw?? I honestly have no clue.


	120. Chapter 120

Cullen gave Nehn a wary look as he settled into a rocking chair. “He’s so small. Maybe I should wait until he’s older...” he protested as Nehn gently transferred their grandson into his arms.

“Maker! He’s a tiny person,” Cullen exclaimed as he lovingly examined Sylvia’s newborn son.

“Did you expect a fennec?” Nehn teased.

Cullen scowled before returning his attention to baby Garel. “Look at his little ears! He has a full head of hair already. But he’s so small - is he alright?”

“Small? He’s a big baby - almost five pounds,” Nehn argued.

“Is that normal for elves?” Cullen quizzed.

“Most elven babies are about four and half pounds,” she said matter-of-factly before cooing, “Garel is grandmamae’s chubby dumpling,” to her grandson.

“Oh,” Cullen replied as a worried look passed over his face.

“Something wrong?”

“What? No... nothing,” Cullen said unconvincingly.

“Cullen, you’re a terrible liar. What’s on your mind?” Nehn quizzed.

“I weighed nearly nine pounds when I was born,” Cullen answered hoping that Nehn would be able to connect the dots on her own.

“That’s... daunting,” Nehn said while biting her lip. “Still there are plenty of elf-blooded humans. Most with elven mothers. If they can manage, so can I. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Commander. Enjoy your grandson.”

“My grandson...” Cullen said with reverent awe. “I never thought...” he started but didn’t finish his thought as Nehn detected a hint of tears forming in his eyes.

“He’s perfect, and Sylvia’s recovering well. We’re blessed,” she breathed.

“Absolutely,” Cullen agreed while pressing a soft kiss to the baby’s crown. Baby Garel stirred slightly and then winced. “Did I hurt him?” Cullen asked in a panic. 

Nehn looked at Garel whose face was turning red as he grimaced. “No, he’s fine,” Nehn reassured. “But I’d wager that you’ll get to change your first nappy soon.”

*******************

Nehn was head-over-heels in love ... with her grandson. In the three weeks after his birth, every person she encountered in Skyhold had to hear about him, see the latest beanie she was knitting for him, or watch her carry him about like he was a religious icon. Dorian was seriously considering staging an intervention for her after she showed him the pattern for a hooded towel she was about to start sewing. The towel’s hood was shaped like a nug’s head and the four corners of the towel had nug feet.

“That is disturbing,” Dorian said while backing away slowly. 

“What do you mean? It’s precious. Leliana found the pattern for me,” Nehn retorted.

“The next thing you know you’ll be calling him Schmooples or some other ridiculous nickname. Couldn’t you save the poor child a shred of his dignity before his first birthday?” Dorian asked. 

Nehn brushed aside Dorian’s concern with a wave of her hand. “I didn’t see you griping when I dressed him in a tiny Tevinter onesie this morning.”

“Well, that’s another matter entirely. _That_ outfit was the height of fashion. It’s a shame he spit up on it,” Dorian lamented. 

Glancing over at Nehn, Dorian’s face grew lined with concern. He had thought she was getting thinner in the past few weeks, but her weight loss was undeniable in the outfit she was wearing. Her once infamously skintight beige leathers were hanging loosely on her tiny frame as she laid out the pattern on the brushed cotton she’d purchased to make the towel.

“I don’t mean to be a boor, but you seem to be getting fretfully small lately,” he said cautiously.

Nehn sighed. “You sound like Cullen. And no, I’m not trying to lose weight ... food just isn’t appealing. My stomach has been a wreck since we left Suledin.”

“Perhaps you should see one of the healers,” Dorian suggested.

“I _am_ a healer. It’s just residual nerves from worrying about the wedding and Sylvia.”

“If you get much thinner, you’re liable to be blown off the ramparts when the winds pick up, but suit yourself,” Dorian chided.

“I’ll go to a healer if I don’t feel better by next week. We’re supposed to be leaving to take care of some rifts in the Free Marches then,” Nehn acquiesced.

Nehn’s nausea didn’t improve in the next week. In fact, it grew much worse becoming an exhausting and nearly all consuming aversion to food and strong smells. During the war council meeting prior to her planned departure for the Free Marches, Nehn was valiantly struggling to focus, but all she could think about was how much she needed a nap and how cloying Leliana’s perfume was. When Leliana reached across the table to hand Nehn a report, the smell of the spymaster’s cologne was so overpowering that Nehn gagged and raced out of the room with her hand clamped over her mouth.

Cullen followed behind her as she rushed to their quarters - going so far as to fade step much of the way there. When he caught up to her, she was sitting on their bedroom floor clutching a chamber pot and retching.

“Are you okay?” he asked and then immediately castigated himself for asking an idiotic question.

Nehn gave him a withering look and returned to being sick. Cullen wet a rag and passed it to her. Taking it from him gratefully, she mopped her face but continued to dry heave.

“Do you think you got bad food?” he quizzed. Nehn had been eating precious little since returning to Skyhold. The idea that she could have somehow gotten food poisoning with the meager amounts she’d been consuming seemed unfathomable.

Nehn shook her head. She’d only felt this awful at one other time in her life - when she was at Arlathven and pregnant with Asha. Mentally calculating her cycle, she recognized that she was weeks overdue. “I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant,” she replied before another round of sickness hit.

Cullen’s eyes widened with disbelief before his entire face broke out in an expression of sheer joy and excitement. He kneeled beside Nehn ready to sweep her into a warm embrace, but she held up her hand to ward him away. She felt too awful for sappy celebrations. “Please ... just go to the alchemist for something to settle my stomach,” she begged.

“Rumors travel quickly in Skyhold. Do you think perhaps...” he ventured but Nehn cut him off.

“It is her job to be discrete. Please, Cullen, just ask for something to combat morning sickness,” Nehn said wearily as she laid down on the floor relishing the feel of the cold tile against her face.

“If you are... I mean if _we_ are expecting, I just .... you have no idea how happy this makes me,” Cullen rambled.

If she felt better, his awkward excitement would have been adorable, but Nehn felt so horrendously ill that she half expected Cole to show up offering a mercy killing. “Go to the alchemist,” she hissed while laying limply on the floor.

“Oh... right, of course,” Cullen said and then jogged out of the room. Fearful that moving would cause her stomach to lurch more, Nehn stayed still as she offered prayers for relief to Sylaise and Mythal out of habit and desperation.

Twenty long minutes later, Cullen appeared with an elixir but found that Nehn had fallen asleep. Setting the potion on the nightstand, he picked Nehn up and tucked her in bed. She was so exhausted that she didn’t even stir as he moved her. Brushing a stray hair out of her face, he fought the urge to wake her up and quiz her. His mind was buzzing with questions - _How far along? Will the baby be okay with all the weight you’ve lost? You aren’t still headed to the Free Marches - are you?_

Knowing the only way he could avoid the compulsion to wake her was to leave the room, Cullen penned a short note reiterating his happiness and love then slipped out of the room quietly after putting the note next to the potion bottle. His mind whirring with elation and worry, Cullen told Leliana and Josephine that Nehn wasn’t feeling well and the trip to the Free Marches would need to be postponed. Then he headed out to the courtyard to meet Iron Bull for a sparring session.

Had he considered it, Cullen would have realized that sparring with Iron Bull while so distracted was a bad idea, but he typically enjoyed the challenge battling the huge Qunari presented. When Bull’s padded war hammer connected full force with Cullen’s side, the Commander went flying. Clutching his badly bruised ribs, Cullen ceded victory to a flabbergasted Bull and then limped off to the infirmary for an ice rune.

Bull was shocked by Cullen’s poor performance. He had left himself wide open - as if his mind wasn’t in the match at all. Bull’s Ben Hassrath mindset began to kick in as he tried to determine the cause of Cullen’s distraction. Bull’s first thought was that Cullen was struggling with withdrawals, but he dismissed that notion quickly. Cullen’s hands were steady and his eyes clear. He just wasn’t paying attention.

The next possibility Bull considered was some sort of problem with the army, but he heard almost every rumor or report from his perch in the Herald’s Rest. The Inquisition’s forces were downsizing but the process had been smooth and orderly. It had to be something else.

That left only one other likely option - something was going on with the Inquisitor. They weren’t fighting. In fact, they’d been making doe eyes at each other over dinner the night before. But the Boss had hardly touched her food at that meal or any others lately. A twisted grin spread across Bull’s face as he pieced together the puzzle when a messenger notified him that the trip to the Free Marches had been indefinitely postponed. Heading over to Varric, he laid out his theory and placed his bet that in the near future they’d be hearing that the Rutherford’s were expecting.


	121. Chapter 121

When Nehn woke up, she sipped the morning sickness remedy and read Cullen’s note. His words were so tentative and hopeful that she put a hand to her heart as she took them in. Feeling guilty for having given him the brush off earlier, she decided to track him down even if it meant interrupting one of his drills or meetings.

The elixir dulled her morning sickness enough that she was no longer on the verge of vomiting, but she still felt exceptionally nauseated. In hopes further curbing her symptoms, she opted to take a cool bath and change clothes before seeking out Cullen. After her bath, Nehn swished her mouth out with water and prayed that the great hall wouldn’t have any lingering odors from lunch.

Opening the door to the great hall, Nehn was met by a wave of incense perfumed air that nearly sent her scrambling back to her room. _Damned Chantry sisters. Do they have to burn that crap everywhere?_ Breathing through her mouth and trying to move quickly, Nehn nearly made it to Solas’ study before Varric stopped her. 

As he asked her about why the trip to the Free Marches had been postponed, Nehn felt herself growing dizzy as her throat tightened in response to the smell of incense combining with the strong scent coming from a half eaten fish and egg pie sitting amongst Varric’s stacks of papers.

“Varric, I’ve really got to go...” she said as her face turned green and she dashed out toward the bridge linking Solas’ study with Cullen’s office. Clenching a stone crenelation, Nehn let the frigid Frostback air settle her stomach.

“I’ve never seen someone look so miserable at the thought of visiting the Free Marches,” Varric teased in his gravelly voice. “I don’t think even Curly hates Kirkwall that much.”

“It isn’t that, Varric,” Nehn choked out before closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to take in anything but the cool crisp breeze against her skin.

“I know,” Varric replied while putting a hand on Nehn’s arm. “Hope you feel better soon, Sass.”

Nehn nodded and squeaked out a thank you before gingerly walking toward Cullen’s office.

_Better adjust the odds if I take any more bets on whether she’s knocked up,_ he thought as he returned to his table. Scooping up the fish and egg pie, Varric wrinkled his nose with disgust. _This plus the incense was probably overkill._ Gesturing to some of the servants, he told them to air out the hall by opening as many doors as possible. _Sorry, Sassy. It seemed the easiest way to be sure. That damned apothecary is too tight lipped._

Not wanting to interrupt his meeting, Nehn entered Cullen’s office and quietly took a seat at her table. Cullen noticed her immediately and his eyes took on the soft, gentle cast that was reserved for her. Seeing his face change from hardened warrior to caring lover always made her stomach get butterflies - the good kind thankfully considering her track record that day. As her ears turned pink, she smiled a hello then occupied herself with one of the books on magical theory she had left in his office.

Despite Nehn trying not to interrupt, Cullen clearly wanted the meeting to end the second she entered the room. He encouraged his officers to report succinctly, cut them off if they grew too wordy, and issued orders quickly - practically herding them out the door. As he closed and locked his office doors, Nehn noticed that he was walking oddly and favoring his shield side. “Are you hurt?” she quizzed.

Cullen looked sheepish and grabbed the back of his neck. “I was distracted when I was sparring earlier today. It’ll heal.”

“Who hurt you?” she asked while her chin jutted out.

“Accidents happen, and really this was entirely my fault. I should have put off the match if I wasn’t going to pay attention,” Cullen said steadily. He wasn’t about to give up Bull’s name. The Qunari didn’t deserve a tongue lashing for his mistakes. 

“You aren’t going to tell me - are you? That’s okay. I’ll find out on my own,” she snipped. Gliding over to him, she said more gently, “Can I see?”

Cullen reluctantly removed his breastplate and lifted up his gambeson. Nehn gasped when she saw his entire side was black and blue.

“Bull,” she hissed as she traced the outline of a war hammer on Cullen’s chest.

“Nehn ...” Cullen said with a hint of warning in his voice. She didn’t need to get herself worked up and rush off to the tavern.

“Fine,” she answered with a look that betrayed that he had only delayed rather than ended her plans to light into the mercenary captain. “Go upstairs and take off your armor and underpadding. I’ll heal what I can.”

“Is it safe for you to be climbing rickety ladders?”

“Seriously, Cullen, I’m pregnant not an invalid,” Nehn answered with clear irritation.

“So you’re sure?” he asked cautiously.

“As sure as I can be. I’ve missed two cycles, and the only other time I’ve felt this bad was when I was pregnant with Asha.”

A grin crept across Cullen’s face. Even with his badly bruised side, he couldn’t resist pulling Nehn into a tight embrace. Kissing her neck and smothering her with praise, Cullen made it absolutely clear that he was elated by the idea of becoming a father.

“It’s still early, Cullen,” Nehn warned.

Cullen’s face fell slightly. “Still this means that we can ... that everything works as it should,” he said as a boyish blush spread over his face. Nehn thought it was absolutely endearing that a man who could be as sexually confident as Cullen when impassioned got tongue tied discussing mechanics outside of the heat of the moment.

“I could have told you that months ago, Commander,” she purred before running a finger along his lips. “Now up the ladder, off with the shirt...” she said authoritatively.

Snapping to and clicking his heels, Cullen gave Nehn a firm “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”

After he had laid back on the bed, Nehn lifted up her skirts and straddled him. “Maker,” he sighed as she settled on top of him. “Is it wrong that I only want you more?” he asked while running a hand along her thigh.

Nehn grinned and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Not in the least, but let me see to your side first.”

Cullen closed his eyes as Nehn healed him. He loved the way her hands lightly moved over his body, how he could feel the gentle tugs and tickles off her restorative magics, and how she always hummed or sang as she worked. This was clearly her calling - no matter how strong of a battlemage she was, what lightning or fire that she could call from the sky- Nehn was a healer, one who sought to bring peace and comfort. He loved her for it and so many other things.

“All done,” she announced after a good thirty minutes of concentrated spellcasting. Cullen looked down at his side. All of the bruising was gone, and he didn’t feel the slightest twinge of pain even in the rib he thought had almost certainly been broken. 

“You’re an absolute wonder,” he enthused.

“Verbal thank you’s are lovely, but I’ve always appreciated more hands on approaches,” Nehn flirted as she traced the trail of blond hair that led down from Cullen’s navel.

“Is it safe?” he asked. “I mean I don’t want to hurt you or the baby.”

“Trust me. It’s fine,” Nehn practically begged as she kissed Cullen’s neck and subtly wiggled her hips.

“I just want to be sure...” Cullen said hesitantly.

Nehn sat back and gave him a disgusted sigh. “I promise it’s fine. Garel and I were intimate throughout my pregnancy with Asha.” After that pronouncement, Nehn looked like she might laugh.

“What’s funny?” Cullen quizzed.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but you’ll imagine all sorts of horrific things if I don’t. My labor with Asha stalled out after about twelve hours. I was desperate to have her in my arms. Deshanna assured me that the easiest way to get things going was to have sex, so...”

“You’re telling me that you had sex in the middle of labor?” Cullen said with an amused and slightly aghast look on his face.

“Worked like a charm,” Nehn answered with a wink. “But the point is until my body was ready to deliver, intimacy didn’t do anything except make me very happy.”

“I do like keeping you happy,” he smirked in reply.


	122. Chapter 122

“We’ll interrupt patrols if we don’t unlock the doors soon,” Nehn told Cullen as she kissed the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

“Let them take the long way,” Cullen answered while gliding his hand over Nehn’s bare back. 

Cuddling closer, Nehn smiled contentedly as she settled in for one of her favorite indulgences - a post coital nap. 

Seeing an opportunity to capitalize on Nehn’s good mood, Cullen put in a bid on behalf of a friend. “Go easy when you see Bull. It was entirely my fault.”

Nehn tensed and growled, “He _hurt_ you.”

“Accidentally,” Cullen emphasized. “It’s an assumed risk of sparring. Would you have me hunt down Helaine every time you come back from a session with a bump or bruise?”

“Maybe,” Nehn replied. “She can be a smug bitch when she wins.”

Cullen chuckled and kissed the top of Nehn’s head. _I tried, Bull. You’re on your own._

“Your nausea seems better,” he commented.

“That elixir took the edge off although I thought I was going to choke when I got a whiff on incense mingled with fish and egg pie on the way to visit you.”

Cullen wrinkled his nose at the thought. “I think that would make nearly anyone ill.”

“I didn’t even know Varric liked that nasty stuff, but he had a half-eaten serving of it on his table,” Nehn noted.

“I’m not particularly fond of it myself although there was a pub in Kirkwall that served a marvelous one. Samson seems to lament not being able to eat those pies more than destroying the Templar Order. At times, I wish you had never given him over to me,” Cullen admitted his voice taking on a strained timbre.

“I wanted to give him every opportunity to redeem himself, Cullen,” Nehn said quietly. “If anyone could help him turn his life around, it would be you.”

“Some people are simply beyond saving, Nehn,” Cullen contended.

“I can’t believe that. There’s always hope,” Nehn asserted. Cullen held her closer to him and rubbed his hand over her shoulder. She gave people too much credit, but perhaps he gave them too little. She had saved him after all.

When Nehn woke up from her nap, Cullen was already back in his office working. She slid down the ladder, gave him a peck on the cheek, and went to find Bull. The Qunari was outside the Herald’s Rest drilling with Krem when he saw the Inquisitor approaching.

“Krem...” Bull said hesitantly as he watched Nehn draw closer.

“On it, Chief,” Krem responded as he jogged into the tavern.

“So Bull, do you have anything to say for yourself after smashing in my husband’s chest?” Nehn snarled while folding her arms and giving Bull a venomous glare.

“Boss, you know I didn’t mean to hurt Cullen. I like the guy,” Bull answered while glancing at the tavern door. _C’mon, Krem. Don’t leave me hanging._ “I thought he’d get his shield up in time to block.”

“You started swinging your war hammer when he had his shield down?” Nehn seethed. Suddenly the air around Bull took on the distinct odor of brimstone and ozone. _Damn, she is pissed._

Deciding his best option was to try to distract Nehn, Bull changed the subject and hoped that Krem would show up soon. “So I got word that the trip to the Free Marches is off...”

“What?” Nehn asked with confusion. She hadn’t cancelled any trips.

“A messenger came by earlier. Said you weren’t well and that we wouldn’t be traveling,” Bull explained. _Shit. She wasn’t the one who nixed the trip._

“I was out of sorts earlier, but I never said _anything_ about forgoing our mission in Kirkwall," Nehn replied. Bull noticed that her eyes narrowed as she stared back at Cullen’s office after speaking. _At least I’m off the shit list. Sorry, Cullen. It was you or me, buddy._

Just as Nehn’s attention had been drawn away from being angry with Bull, Krem appeared with a large tray of petit fours. “Inquisitor, thought you might like a taste of these. Bull and I have been trying to pick out a flavor for Dalish’s birthday party,” Krem said with a subtle wink to Bull.

Nehn took one look at the tray festooned with all manner of tiny cakes and gagged. Her skin took on a clammy tint as she raced behind the tavern. Hearing the Inquisitor get sick, Krem was mortified. “I thought she liked cake,” Krem commented while staring down at the tray. 

Bull shrugged and selected a ganache filled strawberry cake. _Yep, the Boss is definitely knocked up. Cullen doesn’t want her putting herself or the kiddo at risk. There’s gonna be a hell of an argument tonight with him eighty-sixing the Free Marches trip._

Nehn was angry and embarrassed that she had gotten sick in the Skyhold courtyard. Bustling away from Krem and Bull without a word, she headed straight for Cullen’s office.

“There you are,” Cullen said with a gentle smile as she flung the door open hard enough that its hinges screamed.

“Why did you cancel my trip?” Nehn snapped back.

“Kirkwall is rife with abominations and red lyrium. It is not a good place for a mage - even without the demon-spewing Fade rifts dotting the harbor.”

“It sounds like every place the Inquisition has sent me thus far,” Nehn sassed.

“In light of recent developments, I thought you would agree it best to limit the risks you take,” Cullen argued making sure to keep his voice even. Staying calm was the only way he could possibly get Nehn to see his perspective. There was no winning a heated war of words with the Inquisitor. Her mind and tongue were both too sharp.

“Do you plan to lock me up in Skyhold like I’m some sort of brood mare?” Nehn asked her voice quivering with rage.

“I only want to keep you and our child safe. Kirkwall isn’t fixable. Hawke tried for years and look how that ended,” Cullen said patiently. 

“I have to try. Don’t ask me to ignore the needs of an entire city. I can’t. Not when I’m the only person capable of doing anything to fix the rifts,” Nehn begged.

“How much more can Thedas expect you to give? When will it be enough?” Cullen asked with a worry-lined face.

“I don’t know, Cullen. As long as I have the mark and lead the Inquisition, I’m obligated to intercede. This isn’t a path I chose, but I have to walk it honorably. Please don’t fight me on this,” she pleaded.

Cullen put his face in his hands and rubbed his temples. One of the primary reasons he fell in love with Nehn was her willingness to put other people first. She was caring to a fault. How could he hold that against her now?

“Alright,” he sighed before laying out his terms in his most authoritative voice. “The only reason you need to be present is to seal the rifts. There is no need for you to fight. I’ll send a retinue of templars and soldiers to handle the demons. Your team can keep you protected while you disrupt and close the tears.”

“Fair enough,” Nehn agreed. “And thank you,” she added softly. 

“We’ll probably have to explain the change in protocols to your inner circle,” Cullen ventured.

“Considering that I just threw up in front of Bull when Krem offered me some petit fours I doubt that they’ll be too surprised.”

*******************  
The next day Nehn headed toward the war room after dosing herself with the apothecary’s elixir. As she passed the hole in the wall just past Josie’s office that Skyhold’s chief mason willfully ignored, Nehn hoped that Leliana had gotten her note asking the former bard to forego wearing perfume. Cullen was announcing her pregnancy at the beginning of the meeting, so Leliana would understand her strange request shortly if she hadn’t already figured things out. 

Nehn felt very conflicted about letting people know about the baby when she was still at risk of miscarrying, but Cullen insisted that her closest companions deserved to be told why she would be curtailing her activities as well as why she had become so frail looking recently. When Cullen shared that Dorian was worried that she’d contracted a wasting disease, Nehn got on board with the idea of telling her friends although she still had her reservations.

Leliana started talking as soon as Nehn passed through the monk’s door to the council chambers. “I’m relieved to hear that you’ve decided to travel to Kirkwall soon. Briala has been pressuring us to release the eluvian network back to her. With Corypheus gone, we don’t really have a legitimate reason to demand unlimited access any longer.”

_So much for our announcement. I guess it will be business first,_ Nehn thought.

“I, for one, will be glad to be done with those damnable mirrors. We don’t even know where a fraction of them lead,” Cullen groused.

Upon hearing Cullen’s assessment, Nehn rolled her eyes and muttered, “Templar,” under her breath. Ever since the incident with Mythal, he had been arguing that the eluvians presented too much of a security risk. He especially wanted the mirror in the upper courtyard storeroom moved off site.

“So will we not be able to use them at all?” Nehn questioned her spymaster.

“No, Briala promises that _you_ will have access when you need it. She just wants to limit other uses. Lately we have been sending a great deal of agents and friends of the Inquisition through them more out of convenience than necessity,” Leliana explained.

“Fair enough,” Nehn said. “With Corypheus gone, Briala will want to concentrate on helping Orleasian elves rather than playing gatekeeper for the Inquisition. She’s more than earned that chance.”

“It is probably wise to distance the Inquisition from her if she is plotting some sort of uprising,” Josephine added.

“Gods forbid we show any support to elves that don’t just submit to being second class citizens,” Nehn fumed.

“The Inquisition has the backing of nobility throughout Ferelden and Orlais because it has been a stabilizing force. Briala’s actions however well intentioned could upset the balance we’ve carefully constructed,” Josephine posited.

In response, Cullen and Nehn made disgusted noises simultaneously. Neither particularly valued the comfort of nobility over that of commoners.

“Sneer if you must, but it is the nobility that has outfitted our army and financed our efforts,” Leliana pointed out. “My hope is that as Divine I can affect positive change for our elven friends without the need for bloodshed.”

_As long as they become Chantry sycophants,_ Nehn thought but bit her tongue. At this point, she only wanted a cocoa and a lie down as Dagna liked to say.

“If there’s no other business, then Cullen has something he’d like to tell you,” Nehn announced.

“I do?” Cullen asked which made Nehn give him her best what-the-hell look. “Oh, oh right... I do have something to share,” he said and then cleared his throat.

“The Inquisitor is expecting,” Leliana interjected. “Or at least I hope she is. Varric rarely lets me join in a betting pool. I’ll be upset if I lose the ten gold I wagered this morning.”

Cullen scowled - disappointed that the former bard had stolen his thunder. “Nehn _is_ pregnant, but we’d rather that fact not be widely disseminated for the time being,” he confirmed grumpily.

“How wonderful!” Josie exclaimed before hugging Nehn and then beginning to furiously scribble a lengthy list of things to do before the smallest Rutherford’s arrival.

Nehn accepted Josephine’s hug tentatively. She was pissed that Varric was taking bets on her conception status - especially when she thought about the out-of-place fish and egg pie Varric had left out to stink up his workspace the day before. _I’ll wring that dwarf’s neck if I find out he did that on purpose just to set better odds._


	123. Chapter 123

Nehn snuggled baby Garel to her chest and hummed a lullaby while Sylvia luxuriated in a hot bath in the next room. As he drifted off to sleep, Nehn marveled at how precious he was. She was certain a more beautiful baby had never been born. Dorian teased her about having “grandma goggles” but he was wrong - Garel _was_ perfect.

Cullen and she planned to tell the family as a whole about her pregnancy that night when Falon and Sionn returned from work, but Nehn felt like she needed to speak privately with Sylvia first. She was worried that Sylvia might feel hurt or slighted considering she had just given birth and was relishing the attention that being a new mother brought. The last thing Nehn wanted to do was make her feel any less special.

Garel squirmed in his sleep, so Nehn started swaying and humming again. Examining his head, Nehn noticed that the thick mop of black hair that he’d been born with was falling out and being replaced with wispy blond curls. _He is going to look so much like his Uncle Falon at the same age_ Nehn thought as she kissed his hand which was bunched into a tight fist. 

Falon had been the first baby that Nehn had been responsible for delivering even though she had attended many births before then. She felt as if the fates were kind in letting her have that special bond with him - to have been a part of his life from the very beginning. Seeing glimpses of Falon as a baby as she looked at little Garel, Nehn became overwhelmed with memories of Selah’s decline and her own struggle to fill the void left by Selah’s passing.

When Sylvia emerged from her bath, she found Nehn crying quietly to herself.

“Mamae, are you okay?” Sylvia asked gently.

“Just a bit emotional,” Nehn replied while wiping her eyes. “I got to thinking about how much the little one reminds me of Falon at the same age, and the memories got the better of me. Your mother would be so proud of you, da’len. So would your father.” 

After giving Nehn a warm embrace, Sylvia gently scooped baby Garel out of her mother’s arms. Resting her head on Nehn’s shoulder, Sylvia asked, “What’s going on? You aren’t eating. You cry even more than usual. Are you and Cullen having problems?”

“No, we’re fine, sweet girl,” Nehn laughed and patted Sylvia’s knee reassuringly. “I am fairly certain that I’m pregnant, however.”

“What!?!” Sylvia screeched - inadvertently waking the baby who cried in protest. “That’s wonderful!” she said as she bounced Garel and gave him a finger to suckle. “How far along?”

“About two months or so. My cycles were never entirely predictable, so I’m not exactly sure. You were so young you probably don’t remember it, but I had the same symptoms when I was expecting your sister.”

“Oh, I remember your being pregnant. You were miserable. I hope it goes better for you this time,” Sylvia said sympathetically. Her pregnancy had been relatively smooth with mild first trimester nausea and slight discomfort in the third trimester. She had vivid memories of how pitifully ill Nehn had been - first with morning sickness and later with a full body rash that didn’t go away until after Asha was born. 

“Is Cullen excited? I’d think he’d be worrying himself sick.”

“He’s thrilled and a bit anxious,” Nehn admitted. “He tried to cancel my trip to the Free Marches.”

“Maybe he’s right. Would you be strong enough to fight? You’re barely eating enough to keep yourself going.”

“Cullen is sending a group of his best templars and soldiers in advance of my arrival. I’ll just be sealing rifts - no combat,” Nehn explained.

“Why couldn’t that have been the plan from the start? Why did you have to put yourself at risk so often anyway?” Sylvia quizzed.

“We needed to be able to move quickly and avoid detection when the Venatori and Red Templars were widespread. Dragging a battalion around with me would have made it too easy for them to track my movements.”

“I’ll be glad when you’re done fighting. Garel needs his grandmamae, and I need you, too, ” Sylvia declared before giving Nehn a kiss on the cheek.

**********************

Sionn, Asha, Falon, Lysette, and Dorian sat down at the table while Sylvia nursed Garel in the next room. Nehn ladled bowls of potato and elfroot soup that she had made for supper out of a cauldron that hung over the fire while Cullen passed them out.

“While I find Dalish cooking quaint, I wonder if there might be some reason you’ve asked me here tonight,” Dorian said as he eyed the soup warily. It would inevitably be bland. The Dalish were stingy with their spices when compared with the exuberant cuisine of Tevinter.

Iron Bull had mentioned his hypothesis that Nehn was pregnant to Dorian, and the Tevinter had to admit that his boyfriend built a strong case. In any event, Dorian much preferred the idea that Nehn was expecting to his own worry that she had contracted a wasting disease.

“You’re family, Dorian. So are you, Lysette. We wanted you to be among the first to know that we’re going to have a baby,” Nehn said with a broad smile.

Upon hearing Nehn’s announcement, Sionn started laughing. He was so sleep deprived from helping with Garel that the idea of another screaming child in the family apartments pushed him over the edge. 

Falon looked markedly uncomfortable although he tried his best to hide it. He now had undeniable confirmation that his mother was sexually active. Yuck.

Asha was squealing and bouncing around the room while Lysette clapped her hands and silently hoped that the Rutherfords would ask her to be the new baby’s caretaker.

Nehn calling him _family_ made Dorian choke up but hearing that his two favorite people would be having a child together was nearly too much. He stared at the ceiling and tried to think of something sarcastic to say so he wouldn’t become a blathering mess at the dinner table. When Cullen clapped him on the shoulder and grinned from ear to ear, Dorian lost it entirely. Wiping his tears away with a flourish, Dorian declared, “I expect that I will be the child’s guardian.” Giving a disdainful look at the thin soup and peasant bread in front of him, he added, “Someone has to teach it about fashion and food.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Nehn said as she kissed Dorian’s cheek. “Every child needs its own _Glam-paw_.”

“Came up with that all on your own - did you?” Dorian snuffed although he secretly adored the moniker.

When they gathered together in Josephine’s office the next morning, Nehn’s inner circle (with the exception of Vivienne) were ecstatic to hear that a baby was on the way. Bull happily collected his winnings from Varric while Sera started rambling off a list of potential names which she quickly tossed aside for being too elfy or too stuck up. Cassandra stayed silent, but her approving smile gave away her feelings. Vivienne expressed her concern that the child would be a distraction that the Inquisition could ill afford which earned her permanent placement on Nehn’s shit list.

Cole was befuddled. “You’re excited but scared. Happy yet sad. Why?” he asked Nehn once he had a chance to speak with Cullen and her alone.

“I worry that something will go wrong, Cole. Not every baby makes it.”

“This one will,” Cole reassured. “I can feel his heart beat - can’t you?”

Nehn started sobbing with relief at Cole’s words, but Cullen picked up on something else. “You said _he_ ... is it a boy?”

“Yes.” Cole answered succinctly. The preoccupation people had with gender still confused him. Spirits weren’t male or female - they just _were_. Still Cullen seemed pleased by the news, so Cole smiled in return.

Picking up Nehn and swinging her around, Cullen exulted, “Did you hear that - a boy!”

“That’s great. Put me down before I get sick,” Nehn said queasily. 

“Oh right, sorry. Do you need me to get you anything?” Cullen asked.

Nehn shook her head and prayed that the room would stop spinning soon.

“We’re going to have to put the kibosh on your revelations,” Varric said to Cole after Cullen had run around the room telling everyone that Nehn and he would be having a son. “I could have made a fortune off the betting on gender alone.”


	124. Chapter 124

Nehn held up her hand and braced herself for the wave of pain sealing a rift would bring. Willing the tear in the Veil to close, she was relieved it was the last one remaining in Kirkwall’s harbor. The searing pain of interacting with the rift was enough to make her gasp, and she leaned forward clutching her knees when the hole finally closed.

“Good work, Sass,” Varric said as he put a hand on her shoulder. “I’d offer to take you to the Hanged Man for a round of celebratory drinks, but I doubt you could stand the smell of the place. Maybe you’d like to go see Hawke and Merrill instead?”

Nehn’s face brightened. “I’d love that! Do you know where they’re staying?”

“Of course I do. They had been living outside the city for the past few months, but when the twins came Hawke finally sucked it up and moved back into his mansion.”

“So is he back to his old antics?” Nehn quizzed.

“If you mean drinking the piss they pass off as ale at the Hanged Man, yes. If you’re talking about being a vigilante or collecting moth eaten scarves, no. He just doesn’t have the fight left in him,” Varric explained his voice tinged with disappointment.

“Everyone deserves some peace. Hawke especially.”

“I suppose. Kirkwall is a mess, though. Someone is going to have to lead reconstruction efforts.”

“I happen to know a very business savvy dwarf with a silver tongue and a heart of gold,” Nehn said with a wink. “Perhaps he might step up.”

“It would give me a reason to procrastinate writing about the Inquisition. The shit that happens to you is unbelievable. I’ve never written a fantasy novel before,” Varric joked as he guided Nehn through the winding streets of Kirkwall once they got off the small boat they had used to navigate the harbor.

“I thought _Hightown_ was just a convenient name for where the wealthy lived. I never thought I’d practically have to climb a mountain to get there,” Nehn remarked breathlessly as they climbed yet another set of stairs. 

When they finally reached the Champion’s home, Nehn was feeling a bit dizzy. She leaned against the masonry while Varric knocked on the door.

Fenris opened the door and even managed to smile at Nehn as he let them inside.

“Never thought I’d see the day you’d be playing butler, Broody,” Varric teased.

Fenris scowled. "I was closest to the door.” His bad mood was broken by Nehn hugging him as best she could in his pointy armor.

“I’m so glad that you’re here!” she enthused. “I was worried that you would have left already.”

“I’ll be taking off soon. There’s a slaver ring set up just outside of Wycome. I thought I might approach your Keeper for some assistance in breaking it up.”

“If you have the opportunity, take Taran with you. His tracking skills put Scout Harding to shame,” Nehn advised.

“I’ll do that,” Fenris said with a nod. Of all the many wonders and mysteries surrounding the Inquisitor, Varric thought her friendship with the mage-hating elf was among the least plausible. He was even considering excluding Fenris from his official story because he doubted anyone that had read his  Tale of the Champion would believe it possible. He was still gobsmacked, and he’d witnessed it firsthand.

Merrill bustled down the stairs and rushed toward Nehn and Varric chattering happily, “Oh, I’m so glad that you decided to come for a visit. I hardly get out of the house these days. The girls keep me so busy.”

“I can’t believe you carried human twins,” Nehn said in awe.

“The easy part was when I was pregnant, They’re so squirmy now that I’m afraid I’ll drop one of them when I try to carry them both. Hawke is wonderful with them, though. They’re definitely daddy’s girls,” Merrill chirped.

“Where is Hawke anyway?” Varric quizzed. He guessed Nehn wanted some time alone with Merrill for girl talk.

“He’s in the library. Merry is already taking a nap, but Dandy is insistent that her papa rock her more.”

“Oooh, I love their nicknames,” Nehn cooed.

“Hawke’s doing. He thought _Marethari_ and _Leandra_ sounded too old and formal for babies. The names suit them, though. Merry is always happy. Dandy has very definite preferences and makes her opinions known."

“Wonder where she got that?” Varric joked as he gave Merrill a quick hug and ambled off to find Hawke.

When Fenris and Varric were out of the room, Merrill lowered her voice and whispered to Nehn, “Varric sent us a letter saying that you were expecting. Is that right?”

Nehn nodded and broke into a wide smile. “I’m excited, but I’m also really scared. How did you manage to deliver two?”

“Oh, the same way as anyone I suppose - a fair amount of grunting, sweating, and swearing,” Merrill joked.

“But humans are so much ... bigger,” Nehn worried.

“They’re taller and heavier, but the mid-wife pointed out to me that their heads aren’t really any larger than ours. Birthing them isn’t any more difficult,” Merrill said reassuringly.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Nehn admitted and exhaled a sigh of relief. _One less thing to fret about._

“I remember your being so sick with your first. How are you doing this time?” Merrill asked.

“Truthfully... awful. I can hardly keep any food down, and I get dizzy all the time. I keep reminding myself that it gets better. Cullen is about to give himself an ulcer worrying about me, though” Nehn confided. 

“Maybe Hawke could write Cullen. Let him know that everything will be okay - even share some insights on how to manage dealing with a pregnant elven wife. I don’t know about you, but the mood swings I had were vicious,” Merrill commented.

“I think I’m losing my mind. One minute I’m about to fly off the handle over the slightest annoyance. The next I see a mother cat nursing her kittens and spend an hour crying.”

“It must be an elf thing,” Merrill said sympathetically as she glanced over to the stairs where Hawke was descending with a very irate baby in his arms.

“I surrender,” Hawke sighed as he handed his daughter to Merrill. “I’m getting nowhere without breasts.”

Merrill turned pink at his words but immediately started nursing Dandy who made contented snuffles in her mother’s arms. “Perhaps it’s because I have twins, but I do feel a bit like a cow on a dairy farm,” Merrill told Nehn. “Or maybe it’s just that humans have bigger appetites. In any event, you’ll want to drink plenty of water and eat some ginger to keep your supply up.” Nehn nodded and added that tidbit to her mental checklist.

When it came time to leave the Hawke mansion, Nehn grew weepy. Even though she loved the assortment of friends she had at Skyhold, she missed having Dalish women like Merrill around her. Nehn promised herself that she would write Ayla and Merrill more often when she got home. She also reminded herself to relish her time with Sylvia who was becoming a close friend in addition to being her daughter.

**********************  
Cullen was pacing immediately outside the eluvian at Skyhold and wondering when Nehn would return. A messenger had arrived a few hours before saying that the rifts had been managed and that the Inquisitor would be returning by sundown. Cullen stepped outside of the storeroom that housed the mirror to check the sky, the last of the sun’s rays were at the horizon. _Late again,_ he growled inwardly. Punctuality was not Nehn’s strong suit lately.

A full hour after sunset, the eluvian’s surface finally started to shimmer. Cullen, who had taken to sitting against the wall, stood up and stared at the mirror expectantly. As he hoped, Nehn was the first one through. She emerged laughing and carrying a large package in her arms.

“Sorry I’m late. I got sidetracked when I decided to visit the Black Emporium. I picked up a ton of schematics and then spent like a hour playing with this funny mirror that let me try on new hairstyles and makeup. None of the hair do’s really suited me though, so I left without changing anything. The proprietor had a tiny bear for a pet. Syl would die from envy if she knew such things were possible,” Nehn rambled.

“You seem happy,” Cullen commented as he folded Nehn into his arms.

“I am,” Nehn remarked while standing on her tiptoes to kiss Cullen. “Visiting with Merrill did me a world of good. She calmed my nerves and shared a recipe for something called _saltines_. I tried some at her house, and I kept them down. Then there was a store in Kirkwall that sold a fizzy lemon-lime drink that settled my stomach. I bought a case of it, and I’m having more delivered here later.”

“I would never have expected your visiting Kirkwall to be a good thing, but it seems that is was,” Cullen smiled. “I guess that city has some redeeming value after all.”

“So any news?” Nehn quizzed.

“Garel slept for six hours straight last night. Sionn was making coherent sentences when he left for work rather than looking like a zombie. Sylvia seemed more exhausted than usual, though. She felt she had to keep getting up to make sure Garel was still alive,” Cullen recounted.

“Oh, I remember those days. I was frantic for Asha to go to sleep and then terrified something had happened to her when she did. Maybe you and I can watch over the baby some for Syl tonight. You always stay up dreadfully late anyway.”

“Shouldn’t you get your rest?” Cullen quizzed.

“I’ll be fine. My body pretty much makes me take regular naps. Bull was impressed that I could fall asleep in the dinghy we were using to get nearer to the rifts. I’d snooze between waves of demons.”

“That is not the most reassuring picture you paint. Although I suppose it turned out well enough,” Cullen said stiffly. "Did you happen to go to the Gallows while you were there?”

“No, it’s still contaminated with red lyrium. I didn’t think it wise,” Nehn replied while studying Cullen’s face. The fact that he had even mentioned the Circle where he had been stationed in Kirkwall surprised her. He hated discussing his time as a templar.

“I’d hoped they’d found a way to clear out Meredith by now. I guess she may remain a permanent fixture,” Cullen said with a furrowed brow. “I only wish...”

“Cullen, you did the best you could,” Nehn soothed but Cullen would have none of it.

“No, I did not,” he said firmly. “I failed, and people died because of my short-sightedness.”

Nehn pressed her lips together tightly and fought the urge to argue. Nothing she could say or do would make Cullen release his guilt. She hoped one day that he would at least stop flagellating himself, but she was unsure if he’d ever forgive himself. The best she could do now was distract him.

“So... schematics,” she said while waggling her eyebrows and opening the large package she held. Cullen’s eyes lit up like a child with a name day present. 

“Look at these bracers!” he exclaimed happily while holding up a blueprint for wrist guards emblazoned with a lion motif.

“Thought you might like those,” Nehn grinned. “I also found some battlemage attire with an adjustable waist in case I need to go out in the field again later.”

“I should hope you won’t, but I suppose it never hurts to be prepared,” Cullen said thoughtfully while digging through the box.

His pupils dilated when he saw a diagram for a broadsword similar to the ones he favored. “This has enough space for two runes,” he remarked, and Nehn could already see him planning a trip to visit Dagna.

“Speaking of runes, I got some plans for really powerful ones. Might have to go kill a few more dragons to actually make this one, though,” Nehn teased while holding up a scrap of parchment.

“You can’t be serious,” Cullen said while shaking his head.

“I’m joking. Although we might consider sending Bull and the Chargers out after one if we can’t keep them occupied.”

“Fair enough, but no more dragons for you Mrs. Rutherford. You’ve more than filled your quota.”


	125. Chapter 125

The weeks after Nehn’s return from Kirkwall were largely uneventful with the exception of Leliana’s departure from Skyhold to become Divine. Even though there were considerably fewer operations to run after Corypheus’ defeat, no single person seemed able to manage Leliana’s job. As a result, the former spymaster’s duties had been split amongst her most trusted officers. Rector now managed information gathering and interpretation while Harding oversaw the Inquisition’s scouts. Charter handled the Inquisition’s covert operatives and assassins. So far the system seemed to be working well although Nehn missed having a single person that was able to answer all her inquiries. 

As many regular soldiers returned to the lives they had before the war, the size of the Inquisition’s forces decreased dramatically. Although the Inquisition’s army was smaller in number, it lost little in overall effectiveness largely due to Cullen’s skillful reorganization and the significant number of career military individuals that chose to remain because of his leadership. Cullen emphasized the positives of the change at a council session by remarking that while the quantity of the Inquisition’s forces had diminished significantly the overall professionalism of the people serving was higher. Nehn was thankful for the change as it meant Cullen had to spend considerably less time drilling and disciplining soldiers. Those that stayed were self-motivated and pushed themselves to stay sharp.

The only person whose duties seemed to increase after Corypheus’ defeat was Josephine. The diplomat was in high demand - negotiating alliances, authoring trade pacts, and strengthening ties with old allies. Seeing her in action unfettered by concerns about Corypheus, Nehn finally grasped why Leliana had called on Josephine to be the Inquisition’s ambassador. Josie had an amazing ability to recall details that helped her win favor or inspire compliance. She might make sure that a noble’s favorite foods were served at a meeting to make them more open to negotiation. With another, she would casually make reference to the troubles that befell someone of similar standing that ran afoul of the Inquisition. She was as masterful at subtle manipulations as Cullen was at organizing troop movements.

After a long morning of negotiations with random Orleasian nobles, Nehn was sitting in Josie’s office chatting with the ambassador and sewing yet another outfit for Garel when she first felt the baby move. She stopped speaking mid-sentence and waited to see if she’d sense the familiar flutter again. When she did, she squealed with delight. Josie nearly jumped out of her yellow silks at the outburst, but Nehn quickly offered her apologies then rushed off to find Cullen.

As Nehn expected, Cullen was overjoyed when she shared her news. After hugging her tenderly then putting a hand on her subtly protruding belly, Cullen asked, “So how long before _I_ can feel him?” 

“That will be awhile I’m afraid,’ Nehn answered while covering Cullen’s hand with her own. “The quickening is an important moment to the Dalish, though. We believe that when a mother feels her child’s first movements that she is actually feeling its soul enter its body. As the child’s father, you would be expected to make offerings to Mythal to guard the child and Sylaise to ease his journey into the world. Perhaps you could offer a prayer to the Maker instead,” Nehn suggested.

“I already pray daily for both of you, but I will be sure to offer extra thanksgiving tonight,” Cullen replied while drawing Nehn into his lap and gently kissing her forehead.

Nehn sat still absorbing his affection for a few moments and then asked, “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”

Cullen chuckled in response. After months of gagging at the thought of food, Nehn’s appetite had recently returned with gusto. She was ravenous - eating nearly everything set before her and frequently stealing food off his plate. She had a long way to go before she’d hit her pre-pregnancy weight, but he was relieved to see that she was finally filling out rather than shrinking. 

“I have some cookies in that tin,” Cullen said motioning to a box on his bookshelf. “You’re welcome to have some.”

Nehn hopped up and brought the entire tin back to Cullen’s desk. Offering him one, she took the rest and sat at her table munching happily. Cullen hadn’t meant for her to eat them _all_ , but he wasn’t about to take food away from her after seeing her nearly waste away earlier.

After she finished the last cookie, Nehn looked at Cullen with a mischievous glint in her eye. Her sexual appetite had made its own resurgence as of late to the point that Cullen was frankly exhausted.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he sighed when Nehn sauntered over to the ladder that led to his old bedroom and waited at the base of it while tapping her foot expectantly. “Any number of people will be coming and going to drop off reports,” he protested to no effect. Then dropping his voice lower, he added, “I’m not even sure if I could... you know. We already did it this morning and last night -twice. I need some time to recharge.”

Nehn scrunched up her face and pouted. Logically she understood his response, but her hormones were raging. “You look and smell so good, though,” she whined as she walked back across the room and wedged herself between Cullen and the stack of paperwork on his desk. “Are you sure you’re too tired?” she asked coyly while running her hand along the inside of his thigh.

“Just give me a few more hours - okay?” Cullen said gently. In his wildest dreams, he’d never imagined turning down sex with Nehn, but he was worn out. _I must be getting old. Maybe I need to eat more red meat._

With a quickie out of the question, Nehn decided to indulge in another favorite pastime - snuggling her grandson. His disposition reminded Nehn of Asha’s at the same age. Both demanded they be held almost all the time and expected to be kept in near constant motion. Recalling what worked when Asha was a colicky infant, Nehn had fashioned a sling for Garel so Sylvia could at least have her hands free as she carried him about. Still Sylvia was grateful for any respite Nehn could give her - often heading directly to bed as soon as Nehn took Garel from her.

With Garel content in her arms, Nehn took off to the tavern to chat with friends over lunch. Bull gave Nehn a high five when she told him about feeling the baby and then remarked, “You’re getting a nice rack with that little belly, Boss,” which made Nehn’s face turn pink (although she secretly delighted in having boobs for a change). Bull laughed at her modest reaction and said, “You’re not fooling me with that demure act, grandma.”

Nehn snorted in response and turned bright red. Bull was a damned good spy and knew her all too well.

While Sera tried to be excited for Nehn, she was _not_ a baby person and worried that she’d see even less of her friend once he arrived. She also didn’t understand the fuss about Garel. He was just this tiny squawking creature with ears that were much too large for his head. He’d only recently stopped crying long enough to mete out an occasional smile which was _kind of_ adorable but still didn’t make up for the smelly diapers and crying. Maybe she’d like him better when he could act like people and do some tricks.

After lunch, Garel started nuzzling Nehn’s breast like he was hungry, so she returned with him to the family quarters so Sylvia could feed him. Sylvia groggily took her son from Nehn before simply unbuttoning her shirt and nursing him while still lying down. Soon both Garel and Sylvia were fast asleep. Nehn closed the door to their room and tiptoed to her quarters planning to take a nap herself.

When she entered her closet to hand up her coat, Nehn was terrified to find a man in a garishly bright outfit leering at her. Casting a winter’s grasp spell on him and calling for the guards, Nehn was livid that a stranger had made it so far into her home. Once the man was subdued and taken for questioning, Nehn went straight to Cullen’s office to read him the riot act for not ensuring their quarters were better defended.

She needn’t have bothered. Cullen was already browbeating himself when she entered his office. “Inquisitor, I must apologize for the lapse in security. Rector and some of his agents are currently interrogating the man to find out his intentions as well as how he evaded our guards.”

“Don’t you dare _Inquisitor_ me, Cullen Stanton Rutherford,” Nehn hissed. “Syl was fast asleep just down the stairs. She could have been killed. I thought you’d closed the gaps in our security after the Qunari attacks.”

“As did I,” Cullen replied chastened. “I _am_ sorry, and I promise that we’ll do better in the future.”

“Chaff would have never allowed that man to get past,” Nehn huffed. “I want him back. Charter can find someone else to run security at Caer Bronach. Why do we even need that damned fort anyway? I hate Crestwood.”

“Nearly all of our intelligence operations are run out of Caer Bronach. We’d cripple our spymasters if we closed it,” Cullen replied evenly which only served to make Nehn more irate.

“Fuck our spymasters and your guards if they can’t ensure that I can feel safe in my own home,” Nehn said throwing up her hands.

Cullen fought the urge to grin at Nehn’s pique. While most people would be afraid of an angry mage with her abilities, he thought Nehn was absolutely adorable even when she was irate. True her temper was explosive, but he never had to guess what she was thinking. She always laid out her thoughts plainly.

After clearing his throat to avoid an inadvertent chuckle, Cullen expressed his agreement. “I will make sure this doesn’t happen again if I have to take to guarding our quarters myself.”

Nehn nodded and then started to cry. Although she could have killed the intruder with a single spell, her children and baby Garel were much more vulnerable. “I need to know my babies are protected,” she sobbed as Cullen wrapped his arms around her.

“I want that, too. Nothing is more important to me than our family,” Cullen said while kissing the top of her head. 

A few hours later Rector sent word that he was ready to discuss his findings. Nehn and Cullen joined him, Charter, and Harding in the war room to hear his report.

“The man calls himself Lord Trifles Minutiae and insists he was only in your room to test your knowledge of trivia,” Rector began.

“Wait. What?” Nehn asked with outright confusion.

“We’ve spent the past few hours trying to get more from him. He only asks us obscure questions about Theodosian history and makes blowing sounds with his mouth like he’s trying to imitate the wind. Either he is a master spy, or he’s simply insane. I’m leaning toward the latter myself,” Rector summarized.

“But how did he get into our quarters?” Cullen pressed.

“There is some scaffolding the masons have been using in the courtyard off the chapel. He climbed that and then scaled the walls to your balcony. I thought only Avvar were capable of such feats. We’ve already limited access to the scaffolds,” Rector reported.

Charter stepped forward to speak, “I’d recommend that we have Gatsi seal any gaps in the mortar that allowed him to gain a foothold as well as having some of our mages place wards along the castle walls leading to your balconies. We had simply not considered that anyone would try to enter your room in such a way given the sheer drops on all sides.”

“Fine, but I want Chaff and Parsons back,” Nehn ordered.

“Parsons has become one of our most efficient operatives, Inquisitor. As I recall, she wasn’t particularly fond of her posting as your guard,” Charter reminded.

“But she was good at it. If you won’t bring her back to Skyhold, then find someone of similar capability. Chaff is non-negotiable. He comes back to Skyhold, or I quit,” Nehn snipped while folding her arms defiantly.

Rector, Charter, and Harding glanced at Cullen to see if Nehn was being serious with her demands. Chaff had been promoted to oversee security at Caer Bronach a few months before. Returning to guard duty at Skyhold would represent a significant demotion. Cullen shrugged at their quizzical looks. He wasn’t sure if Nehn was serious or not, but he wasn’t about to run afoul of her to find out.

“Chaff seems rather proud of his promotion...” Harding finally ventured.

“Then give him a fancy title and a pay raise to come back here,” Nehn commanded. 

“As you say, Inquisitor,” Charter replied having ascertained that Nehn was going to be inflexible about Chaff’s appointment. “There is one other matter that needs your attention. There have been earthquakes of increasing severity in the Storm Coast region which are disrupting lyrium mining operations. Our contacts in the Carta and Orzammar have hinted that supplies may dwindle quickly if the quakes don’t end soon.”

“With all the red lyrium dotting Ferelden and Orlais, that could be catastrophic if people tried to use it as a substitute,” Nehn thought aloud as her brow furrowed with worry. “Cullen, this may be a good time for you to encourage any of our templars who expressed interest in quitting lyrium to do so now. We could stockpile their rations in the meantime. We can also restrict our mages’ access.”

“That will help, Inquisitor, but only for so long,” Charter continued. “Orzammar is requesting the Inquisition’s aid in shoring up the mines. The earthquakes have broken several important seals in the area as well allowing darkspawn entry. Given that the Inquisition exiled the Wardens...”

“Orzammar expects us to do their job fighting the darkspawn,” Nehn sighed.

“Pretty much,” Harding agreed. “At the very least, I can go with some of my scouts to assess the damage and see how we can help.”

“I get the distinct feeling that I’m going to regret saying this, but go ahead and send word to Orzammar that they will have our assistance,” Nehn replied while rubbing her temples. The only thing she hated more than being wet was being in the Deep Roads. _Maybe they’ll be able to handle this without me for a change._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The QuizQuizition is a real thing in game, and Lord Minutiae scared the bejeezus out of me the first time I encountered him. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmkoJLbufT8 for those that haven't run across him.


	126. Chapter 126

Nehn carefully slid out of bed so as not to disturb Cullen who was finally slumbering soundly after battling nightmares for much of the night. Going into her closet, Nehn selected a comfortable dress but found she couldn’t get it to button over her belly. It was as if she had bloomed overnight. _There’ll be no denying I’m pregnant now,_ she thought as she bent down to open a box of Sylvia’s gently used maternity clothes. _Ugh, why are these things so ghastly? What’s with all the bows?_

Choosing the least offensive dress and promising herself to have the tailors make some less garish options, Nehn slipped it over her head and then went to inspect herself in a full length mirror. She looked alright she guessed as she put a hand low on her belly to fully gauge how much she was showing. A smile crept over her face as she marveled at how much the baby... _their_ baby was changing her figure. _I have some real tits now, too. And they’re perkier than that whore Isabela’s,_ she thought smugly. Although she acted civilly to the pirate, Nehn’s jealous streak wouldn’t allow her to actually like the woman who had once shared Cullen’s bed.

After quietly making herself a cup of tea, Nehn stepped out on the balcony to watch the sunrise. Shortly after Corypheus’ defeat and her crisis of faith, Nehn had moved the statues of the elven gods out of her room with the exception of Fen’Harel who remained on her balcony. Although she wouldn’t readily admit to it, she kept the statue there because it reminded her of Solas with his odd necklace and murals full of wolves - not to mention his vehement defense of the trickster god whenever her curses invoking the Dread Wolf got too salty. Although she had plenty of friends, she missed talking with Solas. Her heart still twisted every time she had a question about elven lore or the Fade, and no one to turn to for an explanation or evasion. 

Patting the statue of the Dread Wolf like a mabari, Nehn took a sip of her tea and wondered what Solas would make of the Inquisition now that the Breach was sealed. They’d never really spoken of what would come after Corypheus’ defeat, and she sorely missed his input on what direction they should take. Perhaps it was hormones and fatigue, but Nehn wished there was a way that she could pass her title and responsibilities to someone else. In the past, the Inquisition had different leaders with Ameridan being the final Inquisitor some eight hundred years earlier. That was before the Chantry was established, though.

The Chantry - that was her problem in a nutshell. Grunting at the thought of the behemoth organization, she recognized that it was her being viewed as some sort of icon that prevented her from naming a successor. Like it or not (and she most definitely did NOT), she was the _Herald of Andraste_. That moniker couldn’t be passed on - not when her hand glowed with magic that the religious were convinced was a gift from the Maker himself regardless of her frequent and vehement protestations otherwise. _I’ll never understand humans,_ she thought and then added _but I’ll try my best with you, da’len_ while patting her belly.

Stepping forward and leaning against the balcony railing, Nehn mentally recited the things she was grateful for even though she wasn’t particularly sure _who_ she should be thanking. After casting her ritual calming and healing auras, Nehn silently watched the sunrise. When a pair of strong arms wrapped around her a few minutes later, she smiled and leaned back against her husband while letting out a bliss-filled purr.

“Morning, love,” Cullen whispered against her neck while cupping one of her breasts with his hand. _He adores his new toys,_ Nehn thought as she turned her head to greet him.

“Ar lath ma,” she cooed while snuggling in his arms. On the eve of her marriage to Garel, Deshanna had said that love was a choice not an emotion. If it was, then Nehn had been fortunate. Garel and Cullen made that choice as automatic as breathing.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked while peppering her neck with kisses.

“Whether I could retire,” Nehn answered which caused Cullen to chuckle.

“Retirement is unlikely, although I doubt you’ll have to do much more adventuring.”

“That’s just it. I like being on the move. I was raised never staying in one place for more than a few weeks. This life is so stagnant,” Nehn complained and then felt guilty. “I’m not saying I don’t like my life... it’s just...”

“You’d rather have an aravel than a castle,” Cullen finished her thought.

“Exactly. How do you know that?” Nehn wondered.

“You said so yourself. The first time we came in this room in fact. Dorian was griping that he deserved better quarters or at least nicer sheets. Varric was complimenting you on the fancy digs, but you were sad. I heard you mumble that you’d rather have an aravel. I felt as though I’d caught a glimpse of the real you in that moment - not the Herald, not the Inquisitor - _you_. I’d say it was when I fell for you, but I was already far gone at that point,” Cullen confided. 

“That was just after I’d been named Inquisitor. How long were you carrying a torch for me, Commander?” Nehn flirted.

“Longer than I should admit,” he teased while pulling her closer. Nehn shut her eyes and absorbed his affection. For as bored as she got at Skyhold, she would never tire of being in Cullen’s arms.

Too soon for Nehn’s taste, Cullen squeezed her close and then let her go. Now the day would begin. He’d shave, do calisthenics, put on his armor, and then fiddle with his hair while she’d sit on the sofa reading through reports and keeping him company. After breakfast with their family, he’d kiss her goodbye and head to the chapel to pray. Depending on the day, they’d reunite in the war room a short while later or barely see each other if his duties took him down to the Inquisition’s main camps in the valley.

Cullen liked routines and predictability, but Nehn liked variety. Fortunately with three children (one of whom was a precocious mage), her life was rarely mundane even if she was stuck at Skyhold. Watching baby Garel helped the days pass happily as well. Still she missed being on the road with her inner circle although she didn’t miss fighting and killing. _I wonder if we could just take a road trip together..._

A similar restlessness had gripped her companions, and some, like Fenris, had already left her side. She was saddened but not surprised when Varric made the decision to stay in Kirkwall after she closed the rifts in its harbor. It was his home, and he felt a responsibility to try to make things better for the people living there. To Nehn’s utter delight, Vivienne had recently returned to Val Royeaux for the stated purpose of seeing how she could help Thedas’ mages. Nehn rightly assumed that the enchanter sensed an opportunity to consolidate her power as the Chantry reformed its opinions on mages.

With Nehn’s blessing, Cassandra and Zevran were using Inquisition resources to narrow their search for any Seekers that might have escaped Lord Seeker Lucius’ grasp. Cassandra anticipated they would be leaving shortly to track down those missing although she had promised to return to Skyhold for visits when Nehn got teary eyed at her announcement. As the Inquisition’s forces dwindled and Skyhold grew quieter, Cole had asked Nehn to find him more active ways to help people. They had settled on sending him to search for POWs and political prisoners. With his spirit abilities, he had an astounding success rate locating and recovering people. In between missions, she could find him on the third floor of the tavern and relished her opportunities to play _decode Cole’s meaning_.

Only Bull, Dorian, and Sera seemed committed to staying with the Inquisition, and Nehn wondered how much longer that would last. For the nonce, there were enough clean up and recovery efforts to keep the Chargers occupied, and Bull kept busy helping the Inquisition’s spymasters adapt to their new jobs. Nehn knew he liked fighting, though, and worried how long he’d be satisfied pushing papers and holding hands. Dorian spent an increasing amount of time writing to contacts in Tevinter - raising support for the reform-minded faction Maevaris had started in the Magisterium. He claimed he had little interest in returning to Tevinter, but it was obvious to Nehn and Bull that he was increasingly homesick.

Sera, however, was having a ball around Skyhold. All of the nobles that poured into the castle came with servants. Servants who invariably became Sera’s _friends_ as she pulled strings (and pranks) to make their lives better (or at least funnier). Although it was amazingly disorganized, Sera’s network of associates was enormous and growing every day. Nehn sometimes dropped hints that she wouldn’t mind helping Sera turn the Red Jenny’s into a more organized force for change in Thedas, but her words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

It was in light of those events that Nehn was overjoyed later that morning when she heard that Orzammar was asking for her to personally assist with relief and recovery efforts in wake of the earthquakes along the Storm Coast.

“Absolutely not,” Cullen said while smacking his fist on the war table for emphasis. “We’ve already constructed a lift for them. They’ve no right to demand more.”

“Our relationship with Orzammar is critically important to the Inquisition. Given the Inquisitor’s current condition, however, I think we must decline her involvement,” Josephine stated tactfully as she stopped scribbling on her clipboard long enough to speak.

“I tried to tell them that, but as the Inquisition hasn’t made a formal announcement of her pregnancy, they thought I was lying,” Scout Harding replied. “Dwarves can be rather stubborn. Perhaps if she made an appearance in person then they could see for themselves that she’s in no state to travel the Deep Roads.”

“Hello?” Nehn finally interrupted. “I’m standing right here. Don’t talk about me like I can’t hear you. Shouldn’t this be my call?”

Cullen glared at her from across the table and narrowed his eyes. “It isn’t safe,” he grunted. “And there has been no indication that there are Fade rifts or anything that specifically demands your intervention in the area.”

Nehn rolled her eyes and sighed. “Couldn’t I at least accompany some of our people there - as a gesture of solidarity?”

“And you expect me to believe that you wouldn’t rush in to try to save people trapped in a mine? I’m not buying it,” Cullen replied while folding his arms defiantly.

“I can control myself,” Nehn snipped.

“If you go, then I go,” he said while arching an eyebrow in a silent challenge.

“Cullen, it’s a _lyrium_ mine,” Nehn countered.

“I can’t see why that would be a problem. If we’re merely making a show of solidarity while dropping off reinforcements, there would be no need for us to go deep into the mines,” he replied calling her bluff.

_Shit,_ Nehn seethed. She had planned on doing slightly more than just making an appearance once she got there. Cullen knew her too well. 

“Fine, I’ll stay at the forward camp” she acquiesced. “But I’d like Bull, Sera, and Dorian to make their own decisions about whether they want to go further. I know Sutherland is antsy to strike out on his own, but we should ask his crew to help as well. He did well dealing with Orzammar before.”

“Fair enough,” Cullen agreed with a slightly smug smirk. It wasn’t often that he outmaneuvered Nehn, but he had a duty to protect her -and their child- from her tendency to be too impetuous and selfless.

“Most people wouldn’t be pouting that they won’t be traipsing through darkspawn infested caves,” he teased Nehn as they walked out of the war room together.

Nehn shot him an aggravated look and then huffed, “Well, at least I’m getting out of this masonry prison for a bit.”

Cullen stopped and turned to face her. “Skyhold is our _home_. It shouldn’t feel like a prison.”

“Maybe it shouldn’t, but lately it does.”

“If I’ve done something to make you discontent...” Cullen whispered in a serious tone.

“It’s nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with me. Even without vallaslin, I’m still Dalish. We’re _nomadic_. We’re _elves_. We don’t live in castles and kiss shemlen ass all day,” Nehn whispered back as hot tears came to her eyes.

“The diplomatic duties ... they’re making you miserable.”

“It’s like I’m trapped at that ball at the Winter Palace,” Nehn confided. “Except there’s no ending bell. It just keeps going...”

Cullen nodded his understanding. “In that case, I think it imperative that we remain on the Storm Coast until the issue there is resolved. You might not be able to go into the Deep Roads, but I can at least keep you from the vultures here.”

Nehn threw her arms around his neck in gratitude. “I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you.”


	127. Chapter 127

Cullen looked around the dinner table and began to worry what he’d gotten himself into. It had started out innocently enough. Nehn had shared that they would be leaving for the Storm Coast in a few days. When Asha asked if they would be fighting, Cullen firmly answered _no_. He didn’t want Asha to worry, and he didn’t want Nehn to get any ideas. He was bewildered when Nehn kicked him under the table for his response although he wasn’t left to wonder why for long. 

“Great!” Asha had chirped. “So I get to go with you.” Unbeknownst to Cullen, Nehn had promised Asha that she could join her on her next diplomatic mission. Hearing that Asha was getting out of Skyhold prompted Falon to invite himself along. Shortly after that, Sylvia announced that if Falon and Asha were leaving then Sionn, the baby, and she would be going, too. Suddenly Cullen’s chivalrous gesture to get Nehn away from annoying nobles had morphed into a family road trip. _Maker help us all._

“Isn’t the baby a little young to be traveling?” Cullen quizzed.

In response, the five Dalish elves in the room looked at Cullen like he’d sprouted an extra head. To them, it was more unnatural that Garel had only been in one place his entire life. Clearly Nehn wasn’t the only one feeling overly constricted by staying at Skyhold.

“The Storm Coast is on the Waking Sea - right?” Sylvia asked nonchalantly.

“Yes, in fact, we have an Inquisition port near where the earthquakes have been occurring,” Cullen had replied only to feel another kick in the shins.

“The Inquisition has its own boats?” Falon queried.

Not noticing Nehn subtly shaking her head at him, Cullen forthrightly answered Falon’s question. “We don’t own any vessels outright, but we have use of several.” Nehn’s audible groan tipped Cullen off that he might have said too much, but it was already too late.

“None of Sionn’s family has seen the baby...” Sylvia hinted, and Cullen finally realized what Nehn had been trying to avoid. Nehn’s children didn’t want to just go on a road trip. They wanted to visit their clan. 

Remembering the icy reception Deshanna had given him at the wedding, Cullen considered whether he should perhaps oversee the operation in the Deep Roads after all. Pushing that idea aside as selfish and callow, Cullen resolved to meet Nehn’s clan with her. She would need his support. There was no telling how they would react to her lack of vallaslin or pregnancy.

However Cullen might have imagined traveling with Nehn and her family would be, the actual experience was completely different. When his own parents had taken him and his siblings on trips, there had been constant bickering and everyone was more or less miserable until their destination was reached. Not so with the Lavellans. They reveled in new sights and enjoyed the journey. They also had an amazing sense of direction and a well-honed ability to find safe places to camp that were near water but far from civilization.

Cullen was amazed by how each member of the family had clearly delineated roles and did their job without complaint. Falon hunted or fished - capturing his prey with an efficiency that left Cullen dumbfounded. Not surprisingly given her job at Skyhold, Sylvia cared for the horses. Nehn prepared all the meals and set protective wards around their camp. Sionn made equipment repairs and kept Falon stocked with arrows and fishing line. Asha collected firewood, herbs, and berries. Every one of them could pitch a tent faster than Cullen could lay his first stake in the ground. For his part, Cullen felt only slightly more useful than baby Garel although he tried his best to pull his own weight. 

A little over a week later, the Inquisitor’s party stood in a cavern that had been partially exposed to the surface by the recent earthquakes along the Storm Coast. As soon as Shaper Valta spotted Nehn and her protruding belly, she negated her previous demand that the Inquisitor personally accompany her into the Deep Roads. “So the surfacer had the truth of it. You _are_ with child,” she said standing in the shadows and cautiously avoiding catching even the faintest glimpse of the sky lest she risk losing her citizenship in Orzammar.

Nehn knew that Orzammar’s dwarves were prejudiced against those dwarves who lived on the surface, but she didn’t realize how deep those feelings ran until interacting with her first “real” dwarves. _And I thought the Dalish looked down on city elves... sheesh._

After Valta reassured him that the passages they’d be using were large enough to accommodate his horns, Bull agreed to lead the expeditionary party consisting of Dorian, Sera, and Sutherland’s company. With support from Inquisition soldiers and the Legion of the Dead, their mission was to assist with rescue and recovery efforts as well as protect Valta as she tried to determine the cause of the quakes in an area that had been quiet for centuries.

Nehn was worried sick about leaving her friends to fend off darkspawn without her, but they were insistent that she not accompany them. Waving her goodbyes as her team took a makeshift elevator into the Deep Roads, Nehn bit her lip. She was determined not to cry in front of Scout Harding and the dwarves operating the precarious machinery.

With Harding’s promise that she would relay updates on Valta’s progress to both Skyhold and the Inquisition outpost near Wycome, Nehn returned to the campsite where her family was staying. Sylvia was brushing the horses while baby Garel snoozed on a blanket nearby. Contrary to Nehn’s prediction that Ginger would be jealous of Garel, she was exceptionally protective of him - standing guard over his tiny sleeping form as if he were her own pup. 

After petting Ginger, Nehn took a seat on the ground beside Garel’s blanket. With Nehn watching the baby, Ginger moved nearer to Sylvia - stretching out on the ground languidly just out of reach of the horse’s hooves. _I swear that dog is smarter than some people I’ve met,_ Nehn thought as she leaned forward so her shadow would shield the baby’s face from the sun.

When Sylvia finished with the horses, she took a seat beside Nehn after cautiously checking Garel’s breathing.

“He’s fine, da’len,” Nehn soothed. “Just sleeping soundly.”

“He never naps this long,” Sylvia worried. “If he doesn’t wake up soon, I’m going to have to rouse him. I’m starting to soak my dress,” she said as she gestured to circular stains on her chest.

“Another joy of motherhood that I forgot to mention,” Nehn sympathized. “I’ll make some cotton pads for you to put in your breast band. It gets better.”

“Things to look forward to,” Sylvia teased back while patting Nehn’s belly. “How is my little brother doing by the way?”

“Well enough I suppose,” Nehn answered. She looked forward to when the infrequent flutters she detected became more regular, discernible kicks. Unknowns made her anxious.

Months before when she told Cullen why Garel and she only had one child together, she had shared most of the reasons with him. There was one she didn’t mention then and couldn’t mention now. When Asha was two, she had gotten pregnant again, but she had lost that baby. Even though she had made it past the point where she miscarried, she still worried that something would go wrong. None of her children knew about that loss, so she carried her fears alone. _Cole said the baby is fine,_ she reminded herself as she felt her chest tighten with worry.

Her thoughts were interrupted by baby Garel’s cries. Scooping him up and handing him to Sylvia, Nehn shifted her body to shield Sylvia from view as she readied herself to feed Garel.

“Thank the gods!” Sylvia exclaimed when he latched on. “I thought I was going to pop.” Nehn snorted and handed her Garel’s blanket which she used to cover herself. After kissing Sylvia’s forehead, Nehn left her to nurse her son in peace.

Cullen waved excitedly to Nehn as she entered the Inquisition camp which was adjacent to where Nehn’s family was staying. “What’s up?” she asked.

“I’ve secured our transportations to Wycome, and it won’t cost the Inquisition anything. Isabela just happens to be headed to there as well,” he said while gesturing across the camp to the scantily clad rogue.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Nehn said flatly.

“No. I was thinking we could rent a nicer flat in Wycome with the money we’ve saved,” he rambled completely unaware that he’d missed the intent of Nehn’s response.

“I can’t believe you!” Nehn nearly shouted as she threw her hands up in exasperation. “A week on a boat with that slut? What were you thinking?”

“I thought you two got along...” Cullen said while grabbing his neck.

“If by _getting along_ you mean that I refrain from immolating her, yes. If you mean we’re friendly, then you are sorely mistaken. Honestly, I’d rather have taken passage on a ship filled with bogfisher dung than travel with Captain Cleavage.”

Cullen snickered at Nehn’s description of Isabela and then cleared his throat when he felt the air around him grow electric. “Bela doesn’t hold a candle to you,” he said while drawing Nehn close to him and whispering in her ear, “Not in looks, not in intelligence, and most definitely not in bed.”

“You expect me to believe that? She’s slept with a quarter of Thedas,” Nehn snipped.

“In this case, practice doesn’t make perfect,” Cullen breathed into Nehn’s ear while pressing himself against her. Nehn turned pink as she felt as much as heard his words. There were soldiers all around them, and she was quite sure that wasn’t his sword hilt pushing against her.

“Tent?” she squeaked.

“Absolutely,” he smirked. “Might be best if you lead the way all things considered.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Bull and co. will clear most of the Deep Road's perils while Cullen and co. go on their own family vacation. (Anyone else seeing Cullen as Clark Griswold in this scenario?)


	128. Chapter 128

They had spent little more than a day at sea when Cullen began to wish he could jump ship and swim for shore. Being surrounded by water reminded him too much of the Gallows and Kinloch Hold which were both on islands. Nehn had suggested going below deck with their family but that only made the claustrophobic feeling worse, so he stayed above pacing while his white knuckled fingers clenched his sword hilt. Nehn remained near - occasionally casting a calming aura or trying to distract him with anecdotes about her travels. Nothing really helped but he was glad for her company.

After a few days of watching Cullen act like a caged animal, Isabela decided to intervene. Late that night after most everyone was asleep, she called over to Nehn who approached her warily.

“Our Cullen is miserable,” Isabela began, and as she expected Nehn visibly bristled in the lamplight at her use of the pronoun _our_. “Oh, don’t get your fur in a rough, pet. I know he’s yours,” the pirate teased.

“What do you want, Isabela?” Nehn huffed barely unable to contain her jealous rage.

When Isabela glanced over at Cullen and smiled, Nehn was poised to attack. Looking back at Nehn, she winked and said, “He likes it when you’re jealous. Our boy has a bit of an ego even if he tries to hide it.” Tossing Nehn the key to her cabin, she whispered, “Slap me.”

“What?” Nehn asked.

“We’re going to get in a cat fight. No magic or knives - just some hair pulling and insults. Those shouldn’t be hard for you to come up with - I can tell you aren’t fond of me, Kitty. He’ll get turned on. You’ll get laid. And I’ll get a pacing hulk off my deck,” Isabela said with a sly grin.

In that moment, Nehn wanted to hug the pirate but that wouldn’t have the intended effect, so she hauled off and slapped her. “You saggy boobed slut,” Nehn yelled dramatically thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to get a dig in on Cullen’s old lover.

“Ouch, that _hurt_ ” Isabela hissed while clenching her jaw and giving Nehn a dirty look. Then remembering her role in the farce, she stepped toward Nehn menacingly. “He was mine first, and I’ll have him again,” Isabela proclaimed theatrically and then got a bit worried when she felt Nehn’s magic start to crackle around her. “Just acting,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

“Oh, right,” Nehn said as she dialed back her response. “I can be a bit possessive,” she apologized quietly then shouted, “Over my dead body, bitch!” while grabbing a fistful of Isabela’s hair.

As the pirate predicted, Cullen was on them in an instant. “What are you doing?” he roared at them both while stepping protectively in front of Nehn who reluctantly let go of Isabela’s hair.

Isabela flirtatiously played with the ruff of fur on Cullen’s collar while squeezing her boobs together to make cavernous cleavage. “Your _wife_ won’t share,” she pouted. Her acting was so convincing that Nehn truly lost her cool.

“Damn right I won’t, you skanky whore!” Nehn yelled before launching herself at the other woman. Cullen caught Nehn about the waist and gently held her still.

“What we had is over, Bela,” he said firmly. “If I’ve given you any reason to think otherwise...”

Isabela gave Cullen a hurt look and then sauntered away shaking her hips provocatively.

Nehn was positively livid and borderline irrational at the display even though she knew its intended purpose. She started to move her hands to cast a spell to zap Isabela’s swinging ass, but Cullen took hold of her arms. When Nehn met his eyes, they were full of desire instead of fear.

_Well, I’ll be damned,_ Nehn thought as she remembered Isabela’s prediction of Cullen’s reaction. With Cullen still holding both her wrists, she leaned forward and kissed him. He responded with a feral growl and then deepened their kiss. Nehn’s legs felt weak as Cullen continued to hold her wrists - not hard enough to bruise but tightly enough that she was completely under his control.

“Isabela gave me the key to her cabin,” Nehn panted when the kiss ended. Cullen was so turned on that he didn’t give a second thought to the oddity of that statement.

In no time, they were inside the captain’s quarters. Cullen guided Nehn toward the bed, but she was put off by the idea and shook her head. _Gods know what kinds of diseases are in those sheets._ Making love standing was a tad precarious with the rocking motion of the boat, but Cullen relished a challenge. When they had finally exhausted themselves in each other’s arms, Cullen laid his coat on the cabin floor and gestured for Nehn to join him.

Laying beside him and kissing his chest apologetically, Nehn admitted the ruse she and Isabela had put on to distract him. Rather than being angry at the deception, Cullen gave a full throated laugh after playfully swatting Nehn’s behind. “You’re quite the actress,” he complimented as he rolled over to kiss her neck and breasts. “I truly thought you were about to take her down.”

“That wasn’t all acting,” Nehn admitted. “I can be a teeny bit jealous at times.”

Cullen’s warm brown eyes danced at her understatement. He clearly didn’t mind that about her one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and slightly racy (for me - not for AO3). Hope you enjoyed. :)


	129. Chapter 129

As Isabela’s boat docked at Wycome, Nehn surveyed the city. Inquisition banners flew alongside the city’s flags on its walls, and she could make out Inquisition soldiers as well as Wycome’s city forces guarding the docks. Turning to Cullen, she commented in a mildly accusatory tone, “We didn’t so much defend the city as occupy it.”

“I wanted to take no chances,” Cullen replied. “Had the city fallen, it would have been catastrophic not only to your clan but the Free Marches. For all their talk of individual sovereignty, the city states are enmeshed with each other by trade, debts, and alliances. If Wycome fell, other Marcher cities would have followed shortly after.”

“Corypheus is defeated. The Red Templars are utterly destroyed, and most Venatori activity is in the West. Why are our forces still here?” Nehn questioned pointedly. She worried about the broader implications of the Inquisition propping up Wycome’s town council. How long would the fiercely independent Free Marchers take a foreign army camped out on their soil? 

“The region is still unstable. Our forces are making sure the progress made in Wycome isn’t lost,” Cullen answered curtly. He disliked when Nehn called into question his military decisions. You couldn’t simply restore order and walk away. Peace had to be _maintained_ , and the surest way to do that was to keep a strong presence in areas that had seen unrest.

“We were to build an organization capable of facing the threats posed by the Breach - not become a threat ourselves, Cullen,” she said in a low voice so others wouldn’t hear her concerns.

Cullen furrowed his brow at her statement. “I hardly see how what we’re doing here could be construed as a threat,” he argued back.

Nehn bit her lip as she watched Isabela’s sailors lower the gangplank. She didn’t want to argue with Cullen, but she disagreed. Perhaps it was her experiences as an elf that made her wary. People were fickle. They’d welcome the Dalish when they wanted to trade and then forcefully drive them from their lands a short while later. When would the Inquisition wear out its welcome now that its original purpose had been met? _Worry about that later,_ she advised herself as she took Cullen’s hand and prepared to disembark.

Deshanna and several other members of Wycome’s city council stood on the pier waiting to greet Nehn and her family. A short, pudgy man dressed in fine silks bowed deeply before addressing Nehn, “Inquisitor, we are thrilled that you chose to honor our fair city with a visit. The Wycome Council humbly asks that you might join us for a banquet in your honor two days hence. We will celebrate your victories and discuss our alliance.”

“Thank you, I’d be delighted,” Nehn replied with the restrained smile Josie had taught her to use in such circumstances. 

“You must act neither excited nor put off by fetes, Inquisitor,” her ambassador counseled her after the invitations for celebrations in Nehn’s honor had begun to pile up at Skyhold. “One of your station should see such things as _de rigueur_. They are to be expected - not anticipated or dreaded.” _Easy for her to say. She loves parties. I hope they at least have some cake._ Nehn thought as she politely responded to Wycome’s council fawning over her. _Gods, I hate this shit, but Dorian tells me to enjoy it while it lasts. Eventually the sycophants will start sharpening their knives._

Cullen subtly rubbed his hand on Nehn’s back as she exchanged pleasantries with Wycome’s rulers. He knew she hated politics. She was too honest and too idealistic to be anything other than miserable when dealing with the deceit and compromise required by it. In that way, she was similar to Cassandra and him. She shared two key differences, however. Although she abhorred politics, she was a skilled negotiator and a natural charmer. _She might hate it, but she is good at it,_ he thought with pride.

With the official greetings were out of the way, the rest of the Lavellan family got off the boat. Once they reached the small villa where they would be staying, Sylvia passed Garel to Nehn as soon as she finished nursing him. Nehn had offered to watch the baby so Sylvia and Sionn could enjoy some alone time together. The young couple had gotten few moments to themselves since his arrival, so they were overjoyed to hand over childcare responsibilities for a few hours. 

Nehn had just settled into a comfy chair with Garel laying on her knees when Cullen came in the room looking consternated. “Something the matter?” she asked while Garel watched her with a studious expression on his tiny face.

“I was trying to set out my clothes for tomorrow, and I can’t find one of my riding boots. Have you seen it?”

“I could try to find it if you’d hold the baby,” Nehn offered.

Cullen didn’t seem thrilled by that offer. Garel was a demanding baby, and his colicky crying had severely shaken Cullen’s confidence in his paternal capabilities.

“You’re going to have to get used to babies sooner or later, Cullen. Go take off your armor and come back. Garel has a full tummy and a clean diaper. He’s perfectly content right now,” Nehn encouraged.

“He does seem stable for the moment,” Cullen said while eyeing his adoptive grandson cautiously. 

“I bet he’d enjoy cuddling his Papaw,” Nehn coaxed. Cullen’s demeanor softened hearing the name they’d settled on calling him, and he began to unfasten his armor.

“I’ll be back in a minute. See that you keep him in a good mood,” he ordered.

Nehn took one of Garel’s hands and put it to his chest in a salute. “Sir, yes sir,” she intoned in a high pitched voice as if she were speaking for him.

“I like that discipline,” Cullen said with a wink before heading out to change. He returned a few minutes later in a pair of old trousers and a worn linen shirt that he usually used for sparring. When Nehn raised an eyebrow at his appearance, Cullen said, “If he spits up on these, it won’t do any harm.”

Nehn snorted her understanding and pointed Cullen to a chair. After he sat down, she transferred Garel into his arms. Cullen held him rigidly away from his body, and Garel began to cry.

“I’m doing it wrong,” Cullen fretted.

“Just relax. He isn’t made of glass. He won’t shatter,” Nehn coached as she repositioned Garel against Cullen’s chest. “I bet he’d settle right away if you just stood up and swayed a bit.”

“I might drop him,” Cullen protested.

“Cullen Rutherford, your shield weighs more than he does. I don’t see you dropping it,” Nehn chided.

Sufficiently scolded, Cullen stood up cautiously and began to rock from side to side. Almost immediately, Garel stopped crying. “It worked!” Cullen exclaimed dumbfounded by his success. 

“I knew you’d get the hang of it,” Nehn said after kissing Cullen on the cheek. “Now I’ll go find your boot. If he starts to fuss, just move around more or sing. He loves music.”

“I don’t really remember any lullabies...”

“Hum a tavern song. He won’t know the difference,” Nehn suggested and then left the room.

Cullen looked at Garel as if he were a container of gaatlok set to explode. To his surprise, Garel stared back and then gave him a toothless grin. Taking in that one expression, Cullen was a goner. 

When Nehn returned boot in hand a few minutes later, she found Cullen making ridiculous faces at the baby. He looked over at her and gleefully declared, “He likes me. He’s _smiling_!” before going back to making goo-goo eyes at Garel. Nehn rushed over to see that the baby was indeed smiling and cooing contentedly at his Papaw.

“Would you look at that...” Nehn stammered in amazement seeing her grandson so happy. Previously, his smiles had been only brief flashes between long stretches of serious scowls or crying fits. “He seems to think you’re pretty special, Cullen." Then making her own silly faces at the baby, Nehn added, "And Grandmamae agrees with her sweet Garel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow. I'm up to nearly 1400 comments and 670 kudos. Y'all know how to make a girl feel appreciated. Thank you.


	130. Chapter 130

Nehn started anxiously chewing on her fingernails as she read Bull’s report on his team’s progress in the Deep Roads. Cullen, who hadn’t yet looked at the update, noticed her upset and drew closer. “Is everything alright?” he asked tentatively. Furrowing her brow and continuing to gnaw on her nails, Nehn shook her head but didn’t give more details as she continued to pour over the letter. When she finished it, she wordlessly handed it to Cullen and began pacing.

Cullen quickly digested the report. Bull had made significant progress in the space of little more than a week - establishing two camps and marking several potential areas for the Inquisition’s engineers to build bridges to reach areas that needed further exploration. “Bull’s doing good work,” he commented while studying Nehn’s reaction.

“That bit about a _titan_. That’s worrisome,” Nehn finally said putting words to her fretting.

“That’s just some shaper’s pet theory. She’s probably spent too much time around lyrium. The other fellow - Renn was it? He didn’t seem at all convinced from what Bull wrote,” Cullen retorted.

“No, _Varric’s_ right,” Nehn said then started biting her bottom lip.

“Varric? He’s in Kirkwall. What would he know about what Bull’s been doing?” Cullen quizzed.

“Varric says that weird shit happens whenever I’m involved. Mark my words... Bull’s going to find more than darkspawn in that blasted hole. Maybe I _should_ have gone with them...”

“Voth and Dorian are capable mages. Your presence isn’t required,” Cullen told Nehn while folding his arms about her. “I’m sure the peanut appreciates his mamae not fighting darkspawn while he’s busy growing,” he added while putting a hand on her belly.

Nehn sighed. She knew Cullen was right that she should be concentrating on their baby’s wellbeing, but she hated that her friends were taking risks in her stead. Bull was a good commander, but he was much more aggressive than she was. Would his decisions place them in unnecessary danger?

As if he heard her thoughts, Cullen replied, “Bull takes good care of those under his command. He might be a bit more bloodthirsty than you, but his choices are well considered.”

“Are you sure you aren’t taking lessons in mind reading from Cole?” Nehn teased.

“I’m certain. You’re just predictable,” Cullen answered confidently.

“Solas didn’t think so,” Nehn protested. 

“ _Solas_ didn’t know you as well as I do,” Cullen replied with a self-satisfied smirk that made Nehn’s heart flutter. She loved it when he was cocky. From the smug look he was wearing, Cullen was well aware of that fact, too.

Turning pink at the lurid thoughts taking shape in her head, Nehn tossed her hair back and cleared her throat which earned her a chuckle from her husband. Rather than admit weakness, Nehn tried her best to play it cool. It wouldn’t do at all for him to spend the day gloating at how easily he left her flustered. She had to maintain _some_ semblance of dignity - right?

When Cullen arched an eyebrow and traced her body with his eyes, any thought Nehn had of keeping her composure fled. Dignity be damned. She needed him ... _now_ , or she wouldn’t be able to string together a coherent sentence for the rest of the day. Knowing it was hopeless to resist, Nehn surrendered to her desire as she led Cullen back to their room. Her love, her Commander didn’t gloat over his victory, but instead dedicated himself with singular focus to sating her passion. Gods, he was a dedicated man, and she loved him for that and a million other reasons. 

******************  
Nehn was a bundle of nerves as she approached Wycome’s alienage. She was concerned about the clan’s living conditions. Every alienage she had seen in her travels had been cramped, filthy, and depressing. When Clan Lavellan made the decision to remain in Wycome, Nehn had done everything in her power to make the alienage hospitable. She’d ordered that Inquisition soldiers fix roads, repair buildings, and secure potable water in the alienage and throughout the city of Wycome. Still she couldn’t grant more land to the elves without risking reprisal from the city’s human inhabitants. Would her clan be packed in the alienage like cords of firewood? How well would they be adapting to staying in one place, held in by walls and prejudice?

She was also worried about how her clan would receive Cullen. While he assured her that his time as a templar had inured him to being disliked on principle, she knew that rejection would hurt him. She hoped the clan would be able to see past his being human and appreciate him for the loyal and caring person he was. The clan’s traditionalists tended to be the most vocal, however, and she was concerned that their reflexive distrust of humans would guide their response and then shape the clan’s. Squeezing Cullen’s hand as they walked through the gates to the alienage together, she hoped that her fears wouldn’t be realized.

The alienage itself surprised Nehn. It was tidy and cheerful. Flowers had been planted in every available niche, murals of elven legends adorned the walls, and the streets and buildings were clean. It was undeniably cramped - the addition of Clan Lavellan had doubled the population of elves in the city, but the Dalish were masters of utilizing space - entire families and their possessions had to fit in single aravels after all. Seeing that her people were living well was an immense relief to Nehn, and she started crying happy tears almost immediately.

“Always were a crier - weren’t you?” an older elf that was selling fruits from a stall near the gates commented to Nehn.

“Hahren Nishan!” Nehn squealed as she threw her arms about the old woman’s neck. The two embraced warmly before Nehn let go and motioned for Cullen to come over.

“Hahren, I’d like you to meet my husband, Commander Cullen Rutherford. Cullen, this is Hahren Nishan Adahl. She’s Sionn’s great aunt.”

Cullen bowed slightly and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hahren.”

Nishan looked through Cullen and commented harshly, “Wasted no time getting her with child I see. I suppose it’s to be expected.” Then turning to Nehn she said kindly, “I hope you’re doing better carrying this one that you did with our Asha. I’ve never seen a woman so sick as you were.”

“The first months were hard, Hahren, but I’m doing well now,” Nehn said with a nod. “We’re very happy about the baby,” she added while smiling at Cullen.

“Always making the best of things ... I don’t know how you do it,” Nishan replied while putting her hand to Nehn’s face. “The clan appreciates your sacrifice, da’len.”

Nehn was confused by Nishan’s words. What sacrifice was she talking about? Assuming that she meant leading the Inquisition, Nehn answered, “I just did what needed to be done, Hahren. There is no need for thanks.”

“I hope you come to appreciate what you have in her,” Nishan hissed at Cullen.

“I’m a fortunate man, and I know it,” Cullen rejoined which earned him a disdainful snort from Nishan.

As they walked through the alienage, a similar scene played out over and over. The clan was warm and effusive toward Nehn but suspicious and hostile toward Cullen. Even those clanmates that Nehn _knew_ were very accepting of humans were rude to him. Something was up, and if Nehn had to guess she figured Deshanna was at the heart of it. Once her children had taken off to catch up with friends and family, Nehn resolved to figure out _why_ everyone was being so inconsiderate toward her husband.

If she wanted the truth, Ayla was her best chance of getting it. Cornering her friend, Nehn asked what _exactly_ had Deshanna told the clan about her marriage. Ayla sighed and beckoned Nehn to join her inside her home after she shooed her children outside. When Nehn and Cullen were seated around Ayla’s kitchen table, she took a deep breath and began her explanation.

“Deshanna may have left the clan with the impression that your marriage to the Commander was by agreement rather than out of love,” Ayla said reluctantly while bracing for Nehn’s reaction.

“What do you mean _agreement_?” Nehn asked angrily.

“You have to remember that she had a lot to explain, Nehn. Your vallaslin being gone, your marrying a human, your staying with a Chantry organization... Any one of those things was reason enough to have you expelled - you know that,” Ayla said while looking steadily at Nehn.

Nehn nodded and Ayla continued, “So we had to come up with a story that would make sense to the clan and keep your position secure.”

“Wait ... _we_? You’re involved?” Nehn quizzed.

“Yes, and before you fly off the handle, just realize we didn’t anticipate that you’d be visiting so soon after your wedding and certainly not with Cullen at your side,” Ayla retorted.

“What did you tell them?” Nehn asked her voice quivering with emotion.

“We told them that your marriage was arranged. That the leaders of the Inquisition demanded that you marry a human in return for their sending forces to aid the clan,” Ayla responded while staring at the table.

“Ayla! How could you?” Nehn stammered.

“We thought it would be ages before you came here which would allow you to have time to _fall in love_ with your husband. The clan couldn’t hold that against you - right?”

“But it’s a complete lie!” 

“I know, but it was well-intentioned. It allowed us to explain why you’d marry a human, stay with the Inquisition, and... have your vallaslin removed,” Ayla replied while flinching as she said the last part.

“You told them Cullen demanded I take off my vallaslin?” Nehn shouted across the table while Cullen sat in stunned silence.

“No, we said that a mage who hated the Dalish manipulated you into that choice while you were reeling from being forced into a marriage you didn’t want,” Ayla answered while looking apologetically at Nehn and Cullen.

“Oh, gods...” Nehn breathed while putting her head in her hands. 

“It’s alright,” Cullen said while rubbing Nehn’s back gently. “I don’t mind playing the villain if it allows you to keep contact with your family and friends.”

“ _I_ mind,” Nehn snapped. “I don’t want people thinking that I’ve been coerced... that I don’t love you... that our child is practically the product of rape...” 

“We never thought that you’d get pregnant so quickly. You were married to Garel for several years before you started a family,” Ayla explained. 

“I was also considerably younger, Ayla. Gods, this is a mess,” Nehn said in exasperation. “What you’ve told them is so far from the truth I don’t even know how I can begin to repair the damage.”

“We also told them that it was part of the agreement that you put on a good face, _pretend_ to be happy. Even if you told them that you wanted to marry Cullen, they probably wouldn’t believe you,” Ayla said quietly.

Nehn couldn’t believe her ears. Ayla was her oldest and best friend. Deshanna was a trusted mentor. How could they have betrayed her like this? Unable to put words to her hurt, Nehn stood up from the table, shook her head sadly, and left. Cullen sat pensively for a few moments before following her. As he departed, Ayla called out to him. “We never meant to hurt either of you. We wanted to protect Nehn’s reputation... her children’s standing with the clan...” 

Cullen listened to Ayla’s entreaties but didn’t respond. He honestly didn’t give a damn what the clan thought of him, but it mattered to Nehn. Wordlessly exiting Ayla’s home, he looked around the alienage for Nehn. He found her clutching her sides and sobbing in an alley near Ayla’s home. Putting his arms around her, he held Nehn gently while her body shook as she cried. She was heartbroken and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

“I’m sorry, love,” he repeated as he stroked her hair. _Why did everything have to be so complicated with elves?_

“I knew what Deshanna said was a load of halla dung,” a voice said from the entrance to the alleyway.

Nehn looked up from her crying and questioned, “Babae?”

Cullen glanced over to see an old elven man leaning heavily on his cane. Even though they had never met, the man seemed somehow familiar. Then Cullen recognized it was because the man had Falon’s eyes. _Babae_ meant _grandpa_. The man watching them was Garel’s father.

Nehn bustled over to Babae and hugged him enthusiastically.

“Careful now,” he chided while patting Nehn on the back. “My balance isn’t what it once was.”

Nehn started to introduce Cullen, but the old elf hobbled over to him and extended his hand. “I’m Nehn’s father ... well, father-in-law I suppose, but that never made much difference to me. You can call me Babae or Aylan - either works. I assume you’re Commander Rutherford.”

“Yes, sir, but please call me Cullen.”

“Fair enough. So what has our girl upset, Cullen?” Babae asked getting straight to the point.

Cullen looked at Nehn unsure how to respond. When she nodded, he felt he had the go ahead to share the truth. “She just heard how Deshanna and Ayla explained our marriage to the clan.”

“From the second I heard it, I knew Deshanna was lying. Nehn loved my son too much to agree to a sham marriage. The rest of the clan bought it, though,” Babae commented before spitting on the ground. “Damned fools the lot of them.”

Nehn grinned as she listened to Babae. He was a straightforward and crotchety as ever, and she absolutely adored him for it. Knowing that he would be brutally honest, Nehn asked for his advice.

“You could try to tell them the truth, but you and I both know they’d never take your word over Deshanna’s. People have noticed Cullen fawning over you, though. The womenfolk are already coming up with their own tales of how you’ve soothed the savage human. Let them believe what they will. You and your children know the truth of things - that’s what matters. Trying to convince elves of anything is just wasting perfectly good air.”

Nehn snorted at Babae’s assessment. He wasn’t wrong. Elves - particularly Dalish ones- were unbelievably stubborn.

“There’s just one thing that doesn’t make sense to me,” Babae said. “You were absolutely devoted to Sylaise. What made you take off her marks?”

After guiding Babae to a bench, Nehn told him about Solas, the sentinels, and everything she had learned about ancient elves and the Creators. He listened intently with his head resting on his cane but said little until she disclosed that vallaslin had once been slave brands.

“That’s quite an assertion, da’len. Have you any proof beyond what this Solas told you?” 

“No, hahren, but I believe it to be true,” Nehn replied.

Babae scratched his head thoughtfully. “Sylvia still has her marks. Did this Solas not offer to take hers?”

“He would have. He also taught me how to remove them. She wasn’t interested,” Nehn answered.

“Because she didn’t believe him,” Babae concluded.

“I’m not sure. The only thing that she has said to me is that whatever vallaslin might have meant in the past that they are a symbol of Dalish pride now,” Nehn answered.

“A wise girl,” Babae commented. “I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m unconvinced. This Solas sounds as if he’s spent too much time in the Fade, and the idea that elves could be alive from the time of Arlathan ... it’s just too unbelievable.”

“I don’t mind at all, hahren. Sometimes I doubt as well, and I saw things firsthand,” Nehn admitted.

The old man stood and offered his arm to Nehn. “Let’s go see if we can find my grandchildren. Sionn’s family has had enough time with my great-grandson. I would see the boy with my own eyes.”


	131. Chapter 131

As she walked beside Babae to the Adahl’s home, Nehn mulled over how she could change the clan’s perception of Cullen. She was disappointed but not surprised that the clan had accepted Deshanna and Ayla’s tale. Elves mistrusted humans - and not without reason. The Chantry _had_ broken Andraste’s promises of an elven homeland. The Dalish were hunted and hounded wherever they traveled. City-dwelling elves _were_ second-class citizens forced to take menial jobs and reside in slums. With that in mind, Nehn understood how the clan would believe that the Inquisition’s aid had come with strings. How could she get them to see differently? And if she did change their minds, would they turn on her? _Damned elves always making things more difficult that they need to be,_ she fumed.

Cullen could tell Nehn was strategizing. She had the same look on her face that she got when playing chess or weighing options at a war council. He wanted to pull her aside and tell her not to bother. He was well acquainted with seeing smiles fade when he entered a room and feeling angry eyes watch him warily. He’d endured years as a templar under such conditions. He could certainly weather her clan’s ire for the few days they were to be in Wycome if it meant that Nehn could keep ties to her old life. He knew Nehn wouldn’t listen to him, though. She was too honest to accept Deshanna and Ayla’s lies even if countering them could mean being shunned by her clan. 

When Asha spotted Babae and Nehn, she decided to join them and bid her playmates goodbye. Fade-stepping across the courtyard, she popped up right in front of her mother and grandfather. 

“Asha Lavellan, how many times have I told you not to do that!” Nehn shouted after having instinctively thrown up a barrier. Asha’s out-of-nowhere appearances never failed to make Nehn jump out of her skin, and Asha delighted in giving her mother a harmless fright.

Babae was unfazed and started chuckling at Nehn’s alarm. “Garel would have laughed himself silly at the look on your face, Nehn.” Turning sad, he added, “Shame he never got to see the little one’s magic.”

Asha squeezed herself between Nehn and Babae before taking the old man’s hand. “The Beyond isn’t that far away, Babae. Papa watches me from there - I’m sure of it.”

“Perhaps you’re right, da’len,” Babae replied thoughtfully. Maybe his son was enjoying Asha’s antics after all.

With Asha occupying Babae, Nehn snuggled up to Cullen. He stiffened when she wrapped an arm about his waist concerned about how the clan would view her affection for him. Sensing his unease, Nehn looked at him squarely and said, “I _want_ them to know that I _love_ you... that I _chose_ you. If that gets me declared _banal_ , so be it.”

“I don’t want to be the cause of ...” Cullen protested and was met with Nehn’s lips planted firmly against his before he could finish his thought. He could feel the disapproving and bewildered eyes of her clan boring into him, but he gave in to the kiss regardless. The clan had been her entire life until little over a year ago, and she would give that up for him - the burned out templar? _Maker, I don’t deserve her, but I’ll try to..._ he prayed as he pulled back from the kiss and glided a naked hand over his wife’s cheek.

Nehn smiled back at him as she took his hand in her own. After planting a small approving kiss on Cullen’s cheek, she pointed to Asha and Babae who were disappearing into an old house with clapboard siding. “We’ll have to double time it if we hope to catch up, Commander,” she announced authoritatively before adding a flirtatious wink.

Cullen didn’t have an instant to respond before Nehn was practically dragging him toward the Adahl’s home. Her short legs moved swiftly, and Cullen found himself almost jogging to keep up with her brisk pace. They were still well outside the entrance to Sionn’s family’s home when they heard Garel crying.

“Uh oh, sounds like Garel is pitching one,” Nehn commented.

“Maker, he does have a set of lungs on him,” Cullen remarked amazed at the volume the tiny baby could generate.

“Better go rescue Syl,” Nehn declared walking even more quickly toward the house.

When they opened the door, Garel’s crying was nearly deafening. Sylvia was frantically bouncing and singing to no avail. Looking at Nehn with desperation, she said, “You try. I can’t get him to calm enough to nurse. His diaper’s dry. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Nehn took her grandson as the Adahls watched. She swayed, sang, and soothed to no avail while Cullen peered over her shoulder at the baby.

“Let me try,” he volunteered. “I think I might know what’s wrong.”

“Keep him happy one night, and you’re an expert?” Nehn asked with a hint of aggravation. Usually she could calm Garel when no one else could, and her pride was injured that he was still upset.

Cullen ignored Nehn’s pique and took Garel from her. Sitting down in a chair and placing Garel on his lap, he began to bicycle the baby’s legs while chanting a military cadence.

_Your grandma once went to the big Conclave but she left, she left, she left, right, left._

_Ran across Thedas the world to save but she left, she left, she left, right, left._

_Came back to Skyhold to rest for a day but she left, she left, she left, right, left._

_To eat cakes and cookies in stinking Orlais..._

As Cullen moved the baby’s legs and sang the cadence, Garel’s crying abated until his bowels moved rather noisily at the mention of Orlais. Cullen chuckled and praised Garel’s political sensibilities before trying to hand him off for a diaper change.

“Oh no, Commander, you held it while he dealt it. It’s yours,” Nehn proclaimed.

“Odd, the rules about who changes the diaper always seem to change,” he commented dryly. Nehn was particularly fond of delegating that responsibility to others. 

Cullen shuffled off carrying Garel and his saggy diaper away from his body. After laying down an old blanket, he set to work cleaning up the baby who was now cooing happily. The mess was prodigious, and Cullen called out for more rags to wipe Garel. Sionn’s great aunt Nishan who had greeted Cullen and Nehn when they first entered the alienage approached with some pieces of old parchment.

“Some crazy mage from Kirkwall’s manifesto,” she said as she offered the paper to Cullen. “Excellent for cleaning up bums.”

“Thank you,” Cullen said taking Ander’s treatise from Nishan.

“Seems I owe you an apology,” Nishan said to Cullen. “I’ve been speaking with Sylvia and Sionn. The story they tell about Nehn and you is quite different from the one we’ve heard from Ayla and Deshanna. I thought perhaps they were just sticking with the party line, but it’s obvious to me after seeing you with the babe that they weren’t lying.”

Cullen glanced over at Nishan and said, “Thank you. I worry, though, about the consequences for Nehn should other people reach the same conclusion.”

“Nah, no need to fret about the clan shunning Nehn. We don’t take well to being lied to, so even if Deshanna tried to declare her banal no one would listen. Between Babae Aylan and me, we’ll have this mess cleaned up by the morrow. And Commander?”

“Yes?” Cullen asked hesitantly.

“Take care of her for us. She’s a special one.”

“Gladly,” Cullen beamed.


	132. Chapter 132

When she got ready for bed that night, Nehn stomped her feet in exasperation as she tried to tug her nightgown down over her belly to no avail. She thought she had packed roomy enough clothes to account for her rapidly increasing girth but clearly she hadn’t. Tearing the gown off and tossing it across the room in a huff, she bit the inside of her cheek and growled. When she was at the same point in Asha’s pregnancy, she was barely showing, but with this baby she was already _huge_. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was carrying a human or that her abdominal muscles were lax from having Asha, but it was inconvenient and annoying to already have lost her shape.

Catching a glimpse of the projectile nightgown in his peripheral vision, Cullen glanced up from the reports he’d been reading and gave Nehn a quizzical look. “No whale watching allowed,” Nehn snarled before turning away.

Cullen laid his papers down and walked over to his wife. Encircling her with his arms and kissing her neck, he said, “I only see a woman who grows more beautiful by the day.”

“I’m _enormous_ ,” Nehn whined. 

“You’re radiant,” Cullen countered while running his hands over her belly and nibbling her ear. “I love seeing you filling out with _my_ child,” he added possessively while pressing himself against her. Nehn’s breath hitched as Cullen’s touch grew more ardent, but her insecurities wouldn’t allow her to trust his words.

“I can’t even fit into my bed clothes,” she protested.

Cullen smirked against her neck as one of his hands cupped her right breast while the other held her hipbone tightly. “Good - one less thing to take off.”

Nehn broke away from him. “Cullen, I’m being serious. I feel like a sow.”

“You don’t look like one. You’re gorgeous,” Cullen countered as he reached out for her.

“I’m feeling hideous, and you’re horny,” Nehn reproached while pushing him away again.

“Would you rather I wasn’t attracted to you?” Cullen asked in complete confusion. 

“You’re supposed to say that you’ll love me no matter what - even if I get as big and ugly as a hurlock alpha,” Nehn pouted.

“That’s impossible. You could never be ugly,” Cullen soothed but somehow got it wrong.

“So you _do_ think I’m fat...” Nehn yelped before starting to cry. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

“Maker’s breath! I never said that, Nehn,” Cullen said defensively. Sometimes he felt as if he were trapped in an emotional mine field when it came to dealing with Nehn - especially with the hormonal ebbs and flows that pregnancy brought. Grabbing his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to figure out where he had misstepped. _Something about loving her even if she was a hurlock..._

“You could at least apologize...” she chided.

“For what? I didn’t say anything...”

“You didn’t have to,” Nehn huffed. 

Cullen sighed. “I love you, but you can be a bit maddening. You know that - right?”

Nehn folded her arms across her chest and snarled.

Cullen pressed his lips together while his eyes twinkled mirthfully. She was impossibly adorable - standing nearly naked with her nose up in the air and arms crossed. If he said as much, he could expect to get his hair singed off, so he restrained himself and waited for her to speak.

“I’m cold, and it’s your fault my clothes don’t fit. The least you could do is offer me one of your shirts,” Nehn sniffed.

“Certainly, m’lady - although I’d be happy to warm you in other ways,” Cullen flirted which earned him a disgusted snort that would have put Cassandra’s to shame. “Have it your way,” he said while handing her one of his linen undershirts.

“You aren’t even going to _try_ to seduce me?” Nehn asked with obvious hurt in her voice as she took the shirt from him.

_I just got in trouble for doing just that..._ Cullen thought but wisely stayed silent on that count. Clearing his throat, he asked, “What would you have me do, love?”

“You could hold me,” she hinted. 

“Gladly,” he answered while taking her in his arms.

“And maybe kiss me...”

“Certainly,” he complied by peppering her with kisses.

“And Cullen?”

“Yes, love?” he asked expectantly.

“I’m hungry. Do you think you could get me some roast chicken?”

**************************

Just as Nishan promised, she and Babae had set everyone in the clan straight about the nature of Cullen and Nehn’s relationship. When Nehn and her family returned to the alienage late the following morning, the change in people’s attitudes toward Cullen was marked. Being elves, they weren’t entirely enthusiastic about one of their own marrying a shem, but they no longer gave Cullen icy looks as he passed by. It seemed the clan’s consensus was that Nehn had earned a right to happiness and if that meant loving a human so be it.

Nehn was relieved that the clan knew the truth about her marriage and hadn’t turned on her as a result, but she was still furious with Ayla. Deshanna being manipulative was a given, but Ayla was her oldest and dearest friend - or had been. Nehn was unsure if she could forgive her - especially since Ayla seemed to think there was nothing wrong with her lies. If anything, Ayla seemed to fault Nehn for showing up to visit the clan too early for the ruse to work. _Worry about that later,_ Nehn advised herself. _You’ve got a grandson that needs introduced to his clan._

When Nehn, Sionn, and Sylvia started to make the rounds with Garel, Cullen pulled Falon aside to enlist his aid. “I’ve got an idea for a surprise for your mother, but I’ll need your help.”

“Are you sure? Your last surprise backfired rather spectacularly,” Falon reminded him. 

“She’ll like this one. I’m sure of it,” Cullen answered and then shared his plan with Falon.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Falon replied after hearing Cullen’s idea and taking a bag of coin from him. “You’d better go catch up to her, or she’ll suspect something.”

Cullen nodded his agreement and jogged over to where Nehn was standing.

“What was that about?” she quizzed.

“I needed Falon to handle some business for me. He is an Inquisition runner after all,” Cullen answered.

“Do you ever stop working? We’re supposed to be on a family vacation,” Nehn rebuffed. Not wanting to tip his hand, Cullen merely shrugged at her chastisement.

“Speaking of work... when do you think we’ll get another update from Bull?” Nehn asked. 

“Probably at least another week - maybe more. I expect it will be slow going even with that shaper’s stone sense guiding them,” Cullen answered.

“We’ll be in the middle of the Waking Sea by then. I doubt the ravens could find us,” Nehn fretted.

“Bull and the others will be fine,” Cullen reassured her. _And you need to get it out of your head that you should be with them._

“Maybe we could go check on things when we get back to Ferelden?” Nehn ventured.

“We’ll see,” Cullen replied noncommittally. _Not a chance in the world I’m letting you get anywhere near that fissure. You’d be sneaking off into the Deep Roads the second you have a chance._

“That’s a _no_ ,” Nehn stated flatly.

“I suppose it is,” Cullen admitted while giving Nehn a stern look. He didn’t understand why she wanted to endanger herself and their child. _Delegate a dangerous task for once. You’ve earned a respite, and our baby deserves better than your being bone tired and eating half-rotten rations in some darkspawn filled cave._

Nehn bit her lip and wrinkled her forehead. “If you won’t let me go, could you at least check on them personally?”

Cullen grabbed at the back of his neck and then shook his head. “Nehn, if they were anywhere but a lyrium mine...”

“Oh, right...” she replied sadly while staring at the ground.

“But I can order a mixed unit of mages and soldiers to go down and provide support,” he offered.

Nehn’s eyes grew teary as she nodded her agreement. “I just have a really bad feeling about it all.”

“I’ll draft the order while I attend to some other matters today. I shall see you later tonight,” Cullen declared.

“If you think that you’re going to get out of attending the town’s celebratory banquet ...” Nehn began with a tone of warning in her voice.

“You act as if I hate socials and would do nearly anything to avoid them,” Cullen retorted with a wicked grin.

“Cullen, please don’t make me go alone,” Nehn begged.

“I’ll be there. Who knows? I may even ask you to dance,” he said with a wink.

“Charmer,” she teased. “Just make sure to change into your formal uniform. I doubt Wycome’s city council would be impressed with your training attire. You are scurrying off to go sling swords with your men - aren’t you?”

Cullen laughed. She knew him too well. “Yes, I’m starting to feel rusty. I’ve not been keeping up with my exercises.”

“Fine, fine...” Nehn said while waving her hand dismissively. “You get cranky if you go too long without hitting things. You’re a bit like Cassandra in that way.”

“Warriors need to drill to stay sharp. We can’t just imagine where we want a blow to land and have it happen,” he teased.

“It doesn’t work that way for knight enchanters, and you know it,” Nehn replied curtly. “We require just as much repetition, but _someone_ convinced my sparring partners that it wasn’t a good idea for me to practice. I wonder who would have done that.”

Cullen leaned over and gave Nehn a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll have you know that wasn’t me. Helaine and Elindra made that call after you required a trip to the infirmary after your last session. I can’t say that I don’t agree with them though. Your balance is off because of the baby, and you don’t fight with practice blades.”

Nehn rolled her eyes but knew Cullen was right. It didn’t hurt to be cautious although she desperately missed getting her frustrations out in a good fight. Throwing fire and lightning helped but it just wasn’t as satisfying as hacking and slashing at an opponent. Maybe she was a little bit Qunari as Bull liked to say.

“Just remember to be at the town hall at seven - pressed and dressed, Commander. And do try to avoid getting a black eye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still trying to decide if Nehn should reconcile with Ayla. Thoughts?


	133. Chapter 133

Nehn wished she had a steadier hand. She almost always made herself look like a raccoon when she tried to line her eyes with kohl. Using an oil dampened rag to remove the worst of her mistakes, she wondered when Cullen would show. It wasn’t like him to be late. If anything, he was painfully punctual. _Gods, I hope he didn’t get hurt sparring,_ she fretted. 

Satisfied that her eye makeup looked as good as it ever would, Nehn began to fiddle with her hair. Usually her oldest daughter fixed it for her, but Sylvia was back in the alienage with the rest of the Lavellans enjoying time with friends and family. Nehn wasn’t very good with braiding, so she opted for a simple bun at the nape of her neck. _Maybe they’ll consider it elegant._

Now to choose a dress. _Damnit, where’s Dorian when you need him?_ There were two options - a black dress with a high waist that washed her out but was slimming or a bright teal dress that suited her complexion but was a tad snug. _Skinny and sallow or plump and pretty._ Opting for the black dress, Nehn dug through her chest trying to find a scarf or piece of jewelry that might add some color. When her search turned up nothing, she went through Cullen’s footlocker. _Aha! This will work,_ she thought as she took some of the red and gold fabric he often wore draped over his breastplate and fashioned a makeshift shawl.

Eyeing herself in the mirror, Nehn was content with her appearance. The reds and golds brightened her complexion, and the shawl had the added bonus of smelling like Cullen. Wondering where he was, Nehn glanced at the mantle clock which showed a quarter to seven. _He’s never this late._ She bustled over to the door and called out for a guard.

“Do you know where Commander Cullen is?” she asked with perturbation.

“No, ma’am. Seems he’s cutting it a bit close - don’t it? If you need, I can find someone to escort you,” the guard offered.

“He was planning on sparring today. He didn’t get hurt - did he?”

“I don’t believe so, ma’am. I expect he’s just running behind.”

Nehn twisted her lips and tapped her foot. She did not want to leave for the banquet alone, but she couldn’t very well be late to her own party. Just as she was about to head out, Cullen came racing down the hall looking absolutely filthy.

“What did you do? Roll around in mud? Is that paint on you, too?” Nehn quizzed as Cullen sped by her and yanked off his clothes.

“I’ll explain later. Would you mind conjuring some water?” he asked while gesturing to a basin.

Nehn waved her hand and the basin filled. Cullen scrubbed himself quickly and wet down his hair. Giving Nehn a peck on the cheek as he passed by, he speedily dressed in his formal uniform. Straightening out his cuffs, he looked at Nehn expectantly. “Ready to go?”

“How do you manage that? You come in looking like an urchin. Five minutes later, you’re Prince Charming. It’s frankly annoying,” Nehn huffed.

“Military secret,” he teased while offering his arm.

Nehn groaned but took his arm regardless. “I was afraid you were going to stand me up, Commander.”

“And miss spending the evening with the prettiest woman in Thedas? Never.”

“Sweet talker,” Nehn said dismissively but then smiled at the compliment in spite of herself. “So are you going to tell me what you were doing?”

“Later,” Cullen answered as he opened the door for Nehn and then helped her into a waiting carriage.

“Are you being evasive?” Nehn prodded.

“Perhaps,” Cullen answered with a smirk.

“You’re up to something. I’m going to figure out what it is,” Nehn declared.

“You can try,” Cullen retorted cockily as he put his arm around Nehn. “In case of potholes,” he explained before giving her a kiss. Noticing her shawl for the first time, he asked, “Are you wearing my clothes? You do realize that fabric is from my old templar uniform - don’t you?”

“Truly? I just needed something colorful to brighten up this outfit. Is my wearing it a problem?” Nehn asked as she began to pull the shawl off her shoulders.

Cullen stopped her. “I don’t mind. I rather like seeing you in them.”

“That’s convenient,” Nehn replied. “I rather like seeing you out of them.”

**********************************  
The banquet itself was nice. The food was hearty. The desserts were plentiful. The music and entertainment were pleasant. The speakers were brief. The guests were friendly. Nehn was miserable, however.

The feast had assigned seating, and Cullen was placed at another table on the far side of the room. Nehn was put between two leaders of Wycome’s town council. One was a lecherous old man that leered at Nehn wantonly and loudly shared his preference for nubile elves. The other would have been a pleasant dinner companion were it not for his atrociously awful breath. Every time he spoke to Nehn she had to hold her breath or risk gagging.

When it was time to mingle after the meal, Nehn hopped out of her seat grateful to get away from the smelly merchant and the old pervert. Nehn hoped to find Cullen and avoid the crowds. Deshanna, however, took Nehn’s arm and guided her toward a young man with still tender-looking vallaslin. The man, named Gabriel, was Clan Lavellan’s new First. Gabriel wasn’t born Dalish - something Nehn picked up on immediately from the freshness of his tattoos. She guessed him to be in his late twenties - much too old to have just taken the signs of adulthood. He had been born in Markham’s alienage and then trained at a Circle once his magic manifested. When the Circles fell, he had fended for himself - disguising that he was a mage and settling in Wycome. He had eventually shared his secret with Deshanna, and she had taken him in as an apprentice.

It shouldn’t have bothered Nehn that Deshanna had found a replacement for her. Clan Lavellan needed a First that lived among them, and Gabriel seemed level-headed and kind. He was also enthusiastic about learning and preserving Dalish culture. Still it hurt Nehn’s feelings that Deshanna was touting Gabriel’s associations with humans as a positive when she had condemned Nehn for the very same thing only a few months before. And that didn’t even touch on how Deshanna had painted Cullen. _Let it go, Nehn,_ she advised herself. _Deshanna is Gabriel’s problem now. Not yours._

After extricating herself from further conversation with Deshanna and Gabriel, Nehn looked around the hall for Cullen. Although she sometimes got annoyed at having to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him, Nehn was thankful for Cullen’s height when she needed to find him in a room filled with people. Spotting his wavy blond hair, she weaved through the crowd although her progress was slowed by well-wishers who swarmed her. Remembering Josie’s admonitions to always be courteous at events held in her honor, Nehn shared pleasantries with each person that stopped her to talk even though she was growing more anxious by the minute.

Fortunately, Cullen was looking for her as well and was better able to navigate through the room. When he joined her, he bent down to kiss her cheek and whispered in her ear, “You look as if you’re about to drown. Time to come up for air.” Nehn nodded. She was in desperate need of a respite from the press of people around her. Putting his shield hand on her back, Cullen guided her way to an exit using his sword hand to politely clear a path. Whether it was his imposing demeanor or Nehn’s pale face that caused people to move aside, they soon found their way to a door that led to a balcony overlooking the harbor. When they finally got outside, Nehn took a deep breath and nearly started crying in relief at not having to share her personal space with others.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. We were packed in like sardines there,” Cullen commented. “Doing better now?

“Yes - better now. Gods I hate these things,” Nehn said as she leaned on the railing and stared out toward a lighthouse.

“You do an excellent job of hiding it. If I didn’t know you so well, I would have thought you were enjoying yourself,” Cullen said while rubbing Nehn’s back.

“Josie would be thrilled that her lessons have paid off,” Nehn said flatly before adding, “Do you think they’d notice if we just left?”

“I’m fairly certain they would,” Cullen chuckled. When Nehn frowned, he patted her back. “We’ve maybe another hour and a half before we can go. Think you can manage?”

“You’ll have to bribe me to behave,” Nehn flirted while drawing closer to Cullen.

“Hmm... what’s the going rate for enduring mass adulation?” Cullen teased.

“A long foot rub and some hot cocoa - after a warm bath together, of course,” Nehn suggested.

“Naturally," Cullen assented with one caveat. "I can agree to your terms _if_ you’ll dance with me." 

“They haven’t a dance floor,” Nehn protested, but Cullen was already bowing and extending his hand. 

“I much prefer to dance with you on a balcony.”


	134. Chapter 134

Nehn tried to put on a brave face as she entered the alienage. She’d had a week and a half with her clan but would be leaving in the morning to return to Skyhold. She was going to miss her friends and family terribly - even if they were broody elves prone to insert themselves in other’s business. She also hated that she would be departing without reaching some resolution with Ayla. They hadn’t spoken since Ayla’s part in the lies told about Cullen had come to light. 

“Mamae, just talk to her,” Asha implored after squeezing her mother’s hand.

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t have anything kind to say, da’len.”

“Sometimes you have to lance an infection to help it heal,” Asha prodded.

“When did you become so wise?” Nehn questioned while smoothing her daughter’s hair. “Alright, I’ll talk to her. As big of a gossip as she is, she might have some idea what Cullen and your brother have been up to.”

“I know what they’re doing, but I’m sworn to secrecy,” Asha gloated.

“Will you at least tell me if I’ll be pleased or annoyed when they finally show me?”

“Nope. If I start answering questions, you’ll wrangle it out of me,” Asha said defiantly. “And Ayla doesn’t know anything. It’s a Rutherford-Lavellan project only.”

“So Sionn and Sylvia know?” Nehn asked. _Syl might let the secret out if I get her talking._

“Sionn does. Not Sylvia. She’s too much of a blabbermouth.”

Nehn growled a little at Asha’s proclamation. Despite her best efforts to spy on Cullen, she had been unable to find out what he had been doing that kept causing paint and mud to show up on his and Falon’s clothes. Were they doing some odd sort of sparring - marking their hits with paint tipped swords? Were they helping with repairs in the city? Taking up portraiture as a hobby? Opening a pig farm? Nehn stomped her foot in aggravation at not being able to puzzle out their activities.

“Patience is a virtue,” Asha teased while gently elbowing her mother. 

Nehn rolled her eyes at her daughter’s platitudes. “So what will you be doing while I go to speak to Ayla?”

“I’d better go with you,” Asha announced. “You might need someone to cast dispel on you if you start sparking.”

“Very funny, da’len. I think it would be best if I talked to Ayla alone,” Nehn said emphatically.

“Are you going to cuss her out?”

Nehn snorted. “Whatever gave you that idea? I can have a heated conversation without resorting to swearing.”

Asha raised her eyebrows at that assertion.

“Fine. I _can_ argue with someone without cursing, though. I just don’t do it very often,” Nehn reluctantly admitted.

“Babae promised he’d take me and my friends fishing. He says that there’s some really nice shoals around here full of cod. I thought I might catch our supper. If it’s okay with you, Mamae?” 

“I never knew Babae to be a fisherman, but I guess he’s taken up a hobby. Have fun, da’len, but don’t tire your grandpa out,” Nehn admonished.

“Some of the hunters are going with us. I expect Babae will just rest on his cane and nap most of the time, but I’ll make sure to watch out for him.”

Nehn smiled. Asha might be sassy, but she took good care of her elders - herself included. “I love you, da’len. Catch a big one for me.”

As Asha skipped off to find her friends and Babae, Nehn straightened her dress and tried to think of how to approach Ayla. Feeling her blood pressure rise at the thought of confronting her friend, Nehn wondered if she should have kept Asha around in case her emotions caused her magic to become unpredictable. Casting a calming aura on herself and silently praying to whatever god or gods might be listening, Nehn walked across the courtyard and knocked on Ayla’s door.

Ayla opened the door and stepped aside gesturing for Nehn to enter. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come by before you left,” she said hesitantly. “I hope that we can clear the air between us.”

Nehn pursed her lips and took a seat by the fire. Crossing her arms and scowling, she stared at Ayla. _This is your mess. You fix it._

Ayla picked up a basket of green beans that she had been snapping. Pouring some into a bowl, she handed them to Nehn. Annoyed to be helping Ayla with her chores but also relieved to have something to do, Nehn began removing the strings and breaking the crisp beans in two. The two women sat silently by the fire preparing the beans and waiting for the other to speak. Nehn gave in first.

“What you did - lying about Cullen, making it seem that the Inquisition’s help wasn’t freely given ... I don’t know if I can forgive that,” Nehn confessed.

“I didn’t do it to be cruel, Nehn. Deshanna and I were just trying to find an explanation for your behavior that the clan would accept,” Ayla explained evenly.

“What about being honest? Would that have been so awful?” Nehn asked angrily.

Ayla sighed and went back to sorting beans. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, she spoke. “I shouldn't have involved Cullen. He’s a good man and didn’t deserve to be slandered. But I don’t know how I could have managed to preserve your standing with the clan if I didn't. You’ve rejected our gods, Nehn. Taken off your vallaslin. How would you have me explain that?”

“You could have told them the truth,” Nehn retorted forcefully.

“The truth? What is that? That your judgment was impaired by your feelings for an elf you carried on with? That you acted on instinct without a thought to consequences? Is that what you’d have them know about a woman that leads one of the largest armies in Thedas?” Ayla answered harshly.

“Is that what you think of me? That I’m an irrational idiot?” Nehn shouted while standing up abruptly causing the beans she’d been sorting to spill on the floor.

“No, I think you’re a woman who thinks with her heart. You’re a good person, Nehn, but you’re too trusting. Solas manipulated you. If he is an ancient elf - and I’m not convinced that he is, then you _know_ he lied to you. Why would you believe anything he says - especially about something so important?”

Nehn sat down and put her head in her hands. “I’d have to detail a million little things I’ve noticed on my journeys in the past year to explain that. I know you think I acted on impulse, but I was headed to the same conclusion even without what Solas shared. Our stories about the gods don’t add up. Surely you’ve noticed the discrepancies.”

“Yes, but they are small details, Nehn. Nothing that would make me doubt the truth of our beliefs. I know you’ve been through much, seen much this past year, da’len. I would have never been able to withstand the pressures you’ve faced, but perhaps your sister is right. Perhaps the stress that you’ve been under has affected your sensibilities.”

“So now you’re saying that you think I‘m crazy? I know what I saw, Ayla. I _talked_ to Mythal,” Nehn protested.

“You talked to _something_. How do you know it wasn’t a demon?” Ayla asked pointedly. “And for the record, I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re misguided.”

“Well, isn’t that a relief!” Nehn snapped.

“I want to make things right between us, Nehn. I love you. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry that I told lies about Cullen, but I’m not going to apologize for _why_ I did what I did. I did it because I care about you and how the clan perceives you. You may not always be leading the Inquisition. You may need or want to return to your roots someday. I just wanted to preserve your ability to do that,” Ayla explained earnestly while reaching out to Nehn. “You have to believe that I acted out of concern not maliciousness.”

“I _do_ believe that,” Nehn replied as tears filled her eyes. “I’m just not sure if I can ever trust you again.”

“Forgive me, Nehn. I never meant to hurt you,” Ayla pleaded. 

Nehn let out a shuddering breath and blinked back her tears, “I’ll try. That’s the best I can offer. You really fucked things up royally between us.”

Ayla started laughing. “You almost made it through that argument without cussing. Some things never change I see.”

Nehn snarled and then flipped Ayla the bird before hugging her friend. “Just promise not to lie about me and my family ever again.”

“You have my word,” Ayla agreed squeezing Nehn tightly before letting go and pointing at the beans Nehn had spilled on the floor. “Suppose I should pitch those ... or we could give them to Deshanna,” she said with a mischievous wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So next installment - Cullen reveals his surprise. Will Nehn be pleased or pissed? You'll just have to wait and see. ;)


	135. Chapter 135

Nehn was blowing raspberries on Garel’s tummy and enjoying his belly laughs while Sylvia and Sionn finished packing. As Garel cooed his approval at his grandma’s antics, Nehn started programming him. “G’mae’s sweet Garel won’t keep her in the dark... no he won’t. He’ll tell G’mae whatever his silly Papaw is up to right away.” 

Cullen shook his head when he heard Nehn. She was relentless in her efforts to spoil his surprise, but he’d managed to keep it secret. Walking over to the bed where Nehn was sitting with the baby, he leaned over and kissed Garel. “Don’t be swayed, little man. We must present a united front if we’re to stand a chance against the Lavellan women.”

Nehn playfully swatted at Cullen. “Don’t pollute his mind like that.”

“I can’t have you making a turncoat out of him. Sionn, Falon, and I need all the backup we can muster,” Cullen teased.

“Or you could just give us girls our way,” Nehn said while batting her eyelashes.

“As if we don’t already,” Cullen laughed before giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Are you looking forward to returning home?”

“Not really,” Nehn admitted. “I’m sure to be ambushed by nobles the second I walk into Skyhold. And I hate crossing the Waking Sea.”

“I see,” Cullen replied and tried his best not to smile. 

Nehn cocked her head and studied Cullen’s face. “You’re up to something,” she announced.

“So paranoid,” Cullen chided. “Can’t I make simple conversation with my wife without having my motives questioned?”

“You could if you were better at hiding your tells. Honestly, I don’t know who’s worse at covering their thoughts - you or Cassandra. So are you going to share what you’re up to, Commander?”

“In due time,” Cullen said with a wink which made Nehn flop back on the bed with a loud groan.

A few minutes later Falon entered the room smiling. “We’re all packed.”

“Excellent,” Cullen declared as he scooped Garel up. “I’ll let you do the honors.”

Falon grinned and held his hand out to Nehn. “I think you’re going to like this, Mamae.”

“We’ll see,” Nehn said warily while taking Falon’s hand. “You know I’m not one for surprises.”

“We know,” Cullen and Falon replied in unison.

When they reached the front door, Falon put his hands over Nehn’s eyes and then nodded at Sionn to open the door. Carefully guiding his mother outside, Falon positioned her just so before dropping his hands and telling her to open her eyes.

Nehn complied and gasped. Then she started crying - not tiny tears but full on ugly face sobs. Sniffling and snorting, she hugged Falon and then buried her face in the fur trim of Cullen’s jacket.

“I can’t quite tell - do you like it?” Cullen asked.

Nehn snuffled and nodded her head vigorously while hugging him tightly. “I love it,” she finally managed to get out. “How?”

“With the clan settled in Wycome, they didn’t really need to keep their full fleet. Falon negotiated for these two, and we spent the week sprucing them up,” Cullen explained.

“Aravels- I can’t believe it,” Nehn stammered as she ran her hand along the freshly painted wood. “You couldn’t have gotten me a better gift.”

“With your leave, we’ll take the long way home - heading to Valence to take the ferry to Jader. I’ve already cleared it with Skyhold,” Cullen explained.

Nehn was again speechless and bobbed her head in agreement.

“We’ve several Inquisition outposts we can stop at along the way. It will be a nice morale boost for our soldiers and agents to see the Inquisitor in person. You’ll also be able to get updates on how Bull is managing in the Deep Roads,” Cullen continued.

“All of us traveling together,” Nehn said while looking around at her family. “Like we’re a clan.” Overwhelmed by her emotions, Nehn started fanning her face with her hands in an effort to avoid another round of tears. Asha and Sylvia were similarly verklempt and hugged their mother fiercely. 

“Shall we?” Cullen asked while offering Nehn a hand to climb into the wagon.

“Absolutely,” Nehn agreed.

***********************

Nehn and her family had spent the past four weeks caravaning through the Free Marches making stops at Inquisition outposts along the way. Having finally reached Valence, Nehn was perusing the latest report from Bull about his progress in the Deep Roads before getting ready to board the ferry to Jader. Resting her hand on her belly as she considered his descriptions of the Sha-brytol dwarves that his team had encountered, Nehn felt a forceful kick.

“Cullen, come here!” she shouted.

Cullen raced over to her looking worried. “Is something wrong?” he quizzed.

“No. Feel,” she directed while putting his hand on her stomach. When the baby gave his hand a swift kick, Cullen’s eyes grew wide.

“Maker’s breath!” he exclaimed and then patted Nehn’s belly hoping to feel the baby again. When his son moved a second time, Cullen’s eyes grew misty. “I can feel him,” he said looking at Nehn with wonder. “He packs a wallop.”

Nehn nodded. “Just like his father. You’d better start thinking of names, Commander. He’ll be here before you know it.”

Cullen grabbed the back of his neck. “I’ve still got a few months. Are you sure you don’t want to name him?”

“No. If it got left up to me, he’d end up being named _boy_ or _you there_ ,” Nehn rebutted. “What about using your father’s name?”

“James? Mia’s already named one of her boys after him. It might get confusing. What about your father? Meryn.”

“Stick with Ferelden names. Humans have a horrible time with elven ones. They never get the inflection right.”

“I say your name correctly - don’t I?” Cullen queried.

“You do, but most people don’t. I cringe nearly every time I’m introduced.”

“ _You there_ is starting to sound like a better and better option,” Cullen teased.

“We can use it as a nickname at least,” Nehn replied with a wink. “On a more serious note, have you read Bull’s latest report?”

“I have. It seems unreal that there’s an entire group of people that we didn’t even know existed. These Sha-brytol - the descriptions of their lyrium armor being joined to their skin - not to mention their weaponry... it’s unsettling,” Cullen commented.

“So you agree that I need to go down there,” Nehn pressed.

“Absolutely not!” Cullen nearly shouted then spoke more calmly. “With your sensitivity to lyrium, that would be a death wish. Look at what happened to their Lieutenant Renn. One lyrium enhanced crossbow bolt felled him.”

“What about Bull and the others? My barriers could keep them safe,” Nehn argued.

“No, it’s out of the question,” Cullen said emphatically. “Your balance is off. You tire quickly. The baby doesn’t need exposed to darkspawn and Maker knows what else is down that blasted hole. Not to mention what being around all that raw lyrium might do to him and you.”

“I just hate waiting for news. I feel like I need to be doing something.”

“You’re getting a taste of what I experienced every day for the past year. It wasn’t easy sending you into the field,” Cullen remarked.

“But I had to go...” 

“Yes, you did then, but you don’t have to now. There are no rifts down there - nothing that requires your presence. Besides, I think you’d be a bigger distraction than a help.”

“I suppose,” Nehn reluctantly agreed. “Could we send more support to them?”

“Bull says it isn’t needed, and I’m inclined to believe him. The passages are narrow - a small force is the most useful right now. We have plenty of soldiers there to keep the caverns behind them clear so they don’t get flanked as they press forward.”

“How much farther can they go? They’ve already ventured past the Deep Roads.”

“I’ve no idea. Shaper Valta seemed to think they were close to discovering what is causing the quakes. I’m no expert on dwarves or stone sense, but I’d assume she knows what she’s talking about,” Cullen asserted.

“I just want them all home safe,” Nehn fretted. “Dorian has got to be miserable down there. Sera, too.”

“I’m sure they’ll wrap things up soon. If they don’t reach some conclusions shortly, it may make sense to simply have them withdraw. Maybe there isn’t an explanation for why there have been quakes. Maybe they’ve just happened,” Cullen posited.

Nehn shook her head. There was too much evidence to the contrary. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”


	136. Chapter 136

Nehn settled into her bed at Skyhold with a happy hum. She’d loved traveling by aravel and sleeping outdoors, but it was also wonderful to have a soft bed and snuggly blankets. Clutching her favorite down-filled pillow to her chest, she hoped Cullen would turn in soon. She’d gotten so used to sleeping beside him in the past few months that she found it difficult to rest well without him. _He’ll likely work through the night,_ she thought with disappointment as she stroked her belly. “The peanut” had been exceptionally active that day - somersaulting and kicking as if he were in training to be a rogue. Now he was still. _Fast asleep. Sweet dreams, peanut,_ Nehn thought as her eyes grew heavy.

She awoke later in desperate need of a chamber pot. _Why do pregnant people have to pee so often? I went right before I got in bed._ Lighting the candles in the room with a flick of her wrist, she got up to relieve herself and then peered at the mantle clock. _Three in the morning and Cullen still isn’t in bed._ Wrapping a robe and a quilt about her, she put on a pair of slippers and went to retrieve her husband.

Padding past the guards who snapped to attention as she walked by, Nehn marveled at how quiet Skyhold was at night. The only noises were whispers between the night watchmen and the cawing of Leliana’s ravens. _Not Leliana’s birds any longer,_ Nehn reminded herself. She missed the spymaster and their cat and mouse games terribly. Her new agents were capable, but they didn’t have Leliana’s wicked sense of humor. 

Nehn felt another pang when she opened the door to the rotunda where Solas’ study had been. _It doesn’t even smell like him,_ she noted sadly. Scout Harding and Rector now shared office space in the room while Charter worked from Leliana’s old perch at the top of the tower. Feeling the loss of Solas and Leliana keenly, Nehn hurried through the rotunda to the bridge connecting to Cullen’s office. She entered without knocking and found Cullen working by candle light.

“What time is it?” he questioned sheepishly when he heard Nehn come inside.

“Almost so late that you’ll be planning to get up soon,” she quipped. “You know you don’t have to catch up on everything your first night back. The last I checked the walls were still standing, and our armies are still camped in the valley.”

“I know,” Cullen answered while rubbing his forehead. “I thought I was keeping up with things while we were away. I didn’t anticipate finding this much of a backlog. I’d very much like to see the top of my desk before Wintersend.”

“I remember a time when having a pile of papers on your desk didn’t stop you from clearing it,” Nehn flirted.

Cullen’s eyes lit up at the memory. “Those red leathers,” he said reverently.

“Still one of the best nights of my life,” Nehn purred while crawling into Cullen’s lap.

Cullen glided a gloved hand under Nehn’s robe and along her thigh while nuzzling her neck. Just as Nehn began to return his affections, the peanut woke up and started turning circles. The sensation made Nehn both giddy and nauseated. Putting Cullen’s hand on her belly, she joked, “He’s already interrupting us.”

“Maker’s breath! He’s a squirmy one,” Cullen exclaimed. “What’s he doing?”

“Trying to get comfortable?” Nehn guessed. “I say we ignore him, and see whether this desk is still sturdy,” she suggested while unfastening her robe.

“Are you serious?” Cullen questioned with a shocked look on his face. 

“Absolutely,” Nehn answered while putting her arm at one end of the desk and waiting for Cullen to give the word for her to sweep it clear.

“Don’t disturb my piles,” Cullen begged in a persnickety panic. Regaining his composure, he cleared his throat and said, “I have a system.”

Nehn made a move like she was about to clear the desk anyway, and Cullen gasped in horror. Doubling over on herself, Nehn started laughing maniacally at her uptight spouse. “I’m not that cruel, Cullen. I would never mess up your precious piles,” she teased.

“I have them arranged in order of urgency, location, expedience, cost...” Cullen explained while gesturing to his desk. 

Nehn stifled a laugh at Cullen’s filing system. She would have never taken the time to read and _then_ prioritize the reports. She always dealt with things first come, first served, top to bottom. If that meant she made a decision about flowers at a banquet before ordering a relief effort, so be it. It would all get done eventually.

Seeing Cullen’s distress at the mounds of paperwork before him, Nehn offered to help. “Do you want me to go through these with you? I’m sure that the larger actions need to be cleared through me anyway. Two birds, one stone?”

“I can’t ask you to stay up,” Cullen replied.

“I won’t sleep well without you. At least this way, there'll be a chance you come to bed at a decent hour tomorrow night. What do you say, Commander - shall we assault this parchment behemoth together?”

“I’d like that, actually. I keep nodding off,” Cullen admitted.

“Alright then, but no more making piles. We’re going to go stack by stack and get this done,” she declared.

“Very well,” Cullen assented. He knew Nehn could clear through reports with blinding efficiency when she was in the mood. “Just please start with this pile first. It is the most urgent.”

Three hours later when Cullen’s officers showed up for morning reports, they were surprised to see a robe clad Inquisitor hunched under a quilt writing responses to reports. 

“Ignore me,” she ordered. “I’m not here.”

The soldiers complied and updated their Commander while pretending not to notice his wife bustling around perusing papers, scribbling notes on them, and adding her seal to finalize decisions. When Cullen dismissed them, one of the women approached Nehn. 

“Ma’am, I know you’re not here, but would you like me to get you clothes for the day?”

Nehn looked up from her work and then down at herself. _Gods, I’m still in my nighty._

“Yes, Roz, that would be very helpful. Thank you.”

The soldier saluted and turned on her heel. Once Roz had left, Nehn growled at Cullen, “You could have reminded me that I wasn’t dressed.”

“I thought you realized that when you told them to ignore you.”

“Oh well,” Nehn shrugged. “It isn’t as if I’m sexy in this flannel ensemble.”

“I’d beg to differ,” Cullen argued while pulling Nehn toward him and kissing her neck. “You’d be tantalizing in a burlap sack.”

“We have work to complete, Commander,” Nehn protested while Cullen squeezed her butt and nipped at her ear. “Fenedhis, that feels good,” she cooed and then gently pushed him away. “People will be in and out of here all morning. I’ve likely started enough rumors with my outfit.”

Cullen put a hand on Nehn’s stomach and smirked. “I think they all know that we’ve had sex.”

“Very funny. Stop trying to dodge work. Bring me the next stack,” she announced authoritatively.

“Task master,” Cullen teased as he handed the papers over.

“I merely want my husband in bed at a reasonable hour tonight.”

“Any reason for that?” Cullen flirted while suggestively tracing her breast with his index finger.

“Damn right there is. Now back at it,” Nehn declared while pointing at his chair.

“You’d make an excellent drill sergeant,” Cullen remarked under his breath.

“I heard that,” Nehn snapped. 

By mid-afternoon, Nehn and Cullen had made it to the final set of reports. “Lunch break?” Nehn suggested.

“Absolutely,” Cullen agreed. When they entered the tavern, Nehn looked around and sighed loudly. 

“Something wrong?” Cullen asked as they chose a table near Cabot’s bar.

“It’s just so empty.”

“Well, we are here in the middle of the afternoon,” Cullen noted.

“I miss Bull and Sera... and Cass and Zev... and Dorian... and Varric...and Leliana and Fenris and Solas...” Nehn lamented as she turned the menu over in her hands.

“I was afraid you were going to say you missed Vivienne, too. Then I’d have really been worried,” Cullen joked before taking Nehn’s hand and running his thumb over the top reassuringly. “Bull, Sera, and Dorian should be back soon. They’ve neutralized the threat, and the quakes have stopped.”

“Does it bother you that our reaction to encountering a previously unknown life form was to kill it?” Nehn questioned.

“My understanding is they didn’t kill the Titan - they merely subdued it,” Cullen corrected.

Nehn shrugged. The distinction seemed semantic to her. “What do you think about Valta?”

“A dwarf with magic? I didn’t think it possible. I just hope Dagna doesn’t catch word of it. She already terrifies me with some of her experiments,” Cullen remarked.

“Gods, I hadn’t even thought about that possibility,” Nehn exclaimed. “I was just worried about Valta getting possessed or accidentally immolating herself.”

Nehn and Cullen’s conversation was interrupted by Cabot coming to take their order. “Inquisitor... Commander...” he drawled in a way that sounded both disinterested and suspicious at the same time.

“Cabot!” Nehn greeted the surly dwarf gleefully. She secretly enjoyed riling the anti-social bartender by being overly friendly. “So what’s the mood at Skyhold?”

“Cryptic,” he said flatly.

“And any new rumors?” Nehn added with a wink. She always pumped him for information whenever she visited the tavern.

“The Seeker will be here soon,” Cabot said while trying to suppress a smile.

“What? Cassandra? How do you know that?” Nehn quizzed.

“That Antivan of hers wrote ahead. Wanted to make sure I had the brandy he liked on hand. Awfully spoiled for an assassin,” Cabot grumbled and then grunted when Nehn hugged him tightly.

“You know you’ve made my day,” Nehn cheered while giving him an extra squeeze.

“Remind me never to do that again,” Cabot groused while gently pushing Nehn away.

“Sorry,” Nehn said as she took her seat. “I forget that you don’t care for hugs. So any specials?”

“If I wasn’t scared you’d try to kiss me, I’d admit that I set back a serving of that split pea soup that you like. Now I’m not so sure I care to share that...”

“You are the sweetest man,” Nehn praised.

Cabot snarled in the back of his throat but his eyes twinkled at Nehn’s words. “So you want the soup?” Nehn nodded vigorously. 

“What about you, Commander? Fish or chicken? Ale or lager?” Cabot prodded.

“Fish and ale,” Cullen replied, and Cabot grunted his approval before returning to the kitchen.

“Cassandra is coming home!” Nehn said while bouncing in her seat and clapping her hands together. “She promised she’d visit, but I was worried she’d get too caught up in her work.”

Cullen chuckled at Nehn’s excitement. “If someone had told me you’d have this reaction a little over a year ago, I would have thought them daft.”

“So our relationship started off a bit... rocky. Cassandra is like Dwarven ale - an acquired taste that you dislike at first but one day find yourself craving. I wonder if she knows Varric is working on another installment of Swords and Shields,” Nehn pattered.

Cullen rolled his eyes at the mention of Varric’s romance novels. He didn’t understand why Nehn liked them so much. Still he had to admit that he benefitted greatly when she’d read a particularly steamy chapter or two. _Maybe they aren’t completely awful. Perhaps I should encourage Varric to keep them coming._


	137. Chapter 137

Nehn laid a quilt out on the floor in Dorian’s library niche and placed Garel in the center before easing herself down as well. At seven and a half months along, she was getting ungainly. Stretching her legs on either side of her grandson while she chatted with Dorian, Nehn helped Garel practice sitting up. Garel was still a bit of a roly poly, but he could manage to stay upright unassisted for several seconds before listing over.

“Amazing how they grow,” Dorian commented while first looking at Garel and then at Nehn’s stomach.

“He’ll be crawling soon. He’s already pushing up on his arms and wriggling his legs,” Nehn said proudly. She was absolutely convinced that her grandson was a prodigy.

“He might want to master sitting first,” Dorian quipped when Garel tumbled over again.

“Sylvia holds him too much,” Nehn critiqued.

“Odd, I always seem to spot him in your arms,” Dorian commented with a raised eyebrow.

Nehn waved off Dorian’s remark. “Lap time with G’mae doesn’t count. But I didn’t come here to discuss child rearing. I wanted your opinion on a diplomatic matter.”

“You want advice from a Tevinter on diplomacy? You must be desperate. Out with it. What crisis requires my sharp wit and keen sense of style?”

“We received a request from King Alistair of Ferelden. He wants Cullen to travel to Denerim for an audience,” Nehn began.

“Cullen? Not you?” Dorian clarified.

“I wasn’t excluded, but from the way things were worded it was clear that he wanted to speak with Cullen - not me. So here’s my question - do I send Cullen alone or accompany him?” Nehn quizzed. 

“Denerim is on the far side of Ferelden - at least two weeks away by carriage. Are you really in a position to be traveling?” 

“I’m not concerned about that. A clan doesn’t stop moving just because someone is pregnant. I’m worried about inserting myself where I’m not wanted,” Nehn explained.

“And what does Cullen think?” Dorian queried pointedly.

“Cullen doesn’t want to go at all. He’s afraid that he’ll miss the baby being born if he goes alone or that I’ll have the baby along the roadside in the Bannorn if I go with him. I told him I wasn’t particular about where the baby was delivered, but he’s convinced that I need a cadre of midwives and healers present.”

“It does seem sensible to err on the side of caution where childbirth is concerned, but you’ve never been terribly sensible. It’s obvious to me that you want to go - so go. The situation is odd, though. Why would the King would want to talk to him and not you? Do you think it is because you’re an elf?”

“I don’t think so. King Alistair has made numerous changes that benefit elves during the past decade,” Nehn replied thoughtfully. “I’m worried he’s looking for Cullen’s expertise. Between the Ferelden Civil War, the Blight, and Corypheus, Alistair’s army has suffered great losses. I’m concerned that he will try to press Cullen into service now that the main threat facing the Inquisition has ended. Cullen is Ferelden after all.”

“Well then, you _must_ go. We can’t have the Bastard King stealing our strapping templar. That just won’t do in the least,” Dorian declared loudly.

“Good, I’m glad you agree,” Nehn said with a nod. “Make sure to tell Cullen that when you play chess with him today.”

“Are you making me do your dirty work?” Dorian accused.

“You’re not doing dirty work for me. You’re laying the groundwork for me to convince Cullen myself,” Nehn explained while batting her eyes innocently.

“The things I’ll do for a pretty face,” Dorian grumbled. “Alright, I’ll lay your groundwork. I’d expect you to bring me back a nice souvenir as thanks, but I don’t think Ferelden has anything I’d want.”

“Really? I could swear that I’ve see you sneaking pints of Ferelden ale in the Rest,” Nehn prodded.

“Hush your blasphemy! Although if you happened to get a cask of Mafaerath’s Betrayal, I might find use for it,” Dorian said nonchalantly.

“Gods, Dorian, that stuff is worse than drinking stagnant pond water. Are you sure?”

“I don’t belittle your affinity for dandelion wine - do I?” Dorian sniffed.

“That’s a Dalish staple. Mafaerath’s Betrayal is an abomination,” Nehn protested.

“I know, but it’s so wrong that it’s right. Don’t tell anyone I said as much. I’ll deny it to my dying breath,” Dorian whispered.

“Your secret is safe with me. Consider your nasty beverage purchased and shipped.”

*********************

Denerim wasn’t at all what Nehn expected. It was small and shabby even when compared to Wycome much less Val Royeaux. Almost all of the buildings were wooden. Few were over three stories tall. Nearly all of the streets were dirt rather than cobblestone or pavers. Nehn reminded herself that the city had been besieged by Civil War and darkspawn ten years earlier. Then it had endured attacks by the Venatori under Corypheus. _Ferelden can’t catch a break,_ she thought as her carriage passed by sections of town charred by Venatori fire spells.

“Do you think we could help them rebuild?” Nehn asked Cullen as they went through a particularly devastated part of the city.

Cullen sat silent for a moment thinking. “Fereldens are very independent. They might not want our aid. Still it can’t hurt to offer.”

“Are you excited about meeting your King?” Nehn quizzed.

Cullen shrugged. “He hardly feels like _my_ king. I’ve been away from Ferelden for the entirety of his rule.”

“You’re still annoyed that he shared Templar secrets with the Hero of Ferelden,” Nehn accused.

Cullen grimaced and then sighed. “I know it must seem silly to you given my current relationship to the Order. A man is only as good as his word. I find it troublesome that Ferelden’s monarch could break his so easily.”

“Easily? He was one of two Grey Wardens left in a country facing the Blight. It might not have been an entirely honorable choice, but it was certainly pragmatic,” Nehn argued. Rubbing her forehead and squinting her eyes, Nehn felt burdened by all the times her duties as Inquisitor had run in opposition to her personal beliefs. _You really did a terrific job walking the Vir’Atishan, Nehn._

Cullen reached over and took Nehn’s hand. “You’re right. We’ve all had to make decisions that weren’t easy. Sometimes the greater good wins out over individual scruples.”

“My conscience would be much clearer if that weren’t the case,” Nehn remarked as her eyes grew moist.

Cullen put his arm around Nehn and drew her closer. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know. I’m just tired, and this rash is making me miserable,” Nehn sighed.

Cullen wrinkled his forehead. “You did this with Asha, too - right? Is there nothing that can be done?”

“The cream Elindra gave me helps a little, but it won’t go away until the baby comes. Now do you understand why I was reluctant to go through this again?”

“Between the morning sickness and this rash? I’m amazed that I was ever able to convince you. Honestly, I feel guilty about it. I wish pregnancy was easier for you,” Cullen said while stroking Nehn’s cheek.

“You’re not the only one. I’d hoped maybe I wouldn’t get the rash this time. Maybe the third time will be the charm.”

“You’d be willing to have another?” Cullen asked incredulously.

“I want to... I mean if you’d want to...” Nehn answered hesitantly.

“Let’s see how things go with this one,” Cullen replied. “We aren’t exactly young, you know.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nehn snipped. “I feel no different than I did ten years ago.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow at that statement, and Nehn huffed. “Fine. So I might have a few more aches and pains. You make it sound as if we have one foot in the grave.”

“No, I just see that Sionn and Sylvia are exhausted by Garel. They’re still in their teens," Cullen explained.

“That’s part of the reason they are so tired. You gain perspective with each child you raise. You try to do everything perfectly the first time. The next time you do what works,” Nehn explained.

“And the third time?” Cullen quizzed.

“You’re content if they’re alive, fed, and clothed,” Nehn joked.

“If that’s the case, it does much to explain Branson and Rosalie,” Cullen chuckled. “But do you count Asha as your first, second, or third?”

“That’s a good question. Falon and Sylvia came to me walking and talking. Taking care of them made me more confident in my abilities as a mother, but it didn’t really prepare me for caring for an infant. Garel was an old pro. He was able to settle me down when I got too frantic about childproofing or germs.”

Cullen’s eyes widened at the mention of germs and childproofing, “We really should do something to make Skyhold safer and cleaner. Not just for this baby, but for Garel, too”

“Childproofing a military installation would be much like the dwarves trying to reclaim the Deep Roads from the darkspawn. It’s a noble idea that’s impossible to accomplish,” Nehn warned.

“Still we should make some effort,” Cullen retorted while beginning a mental list of changes to make to the castle upon their return.

Nehn snorted. Cullen could wage that war if he wanted. She knew the battle was long lost.


	138. Chapter 138

When Cullen and Nehn arrived at Denerim’s royal palace, they were greeted by Arl Eamon Guerrin, King Alistair’s chief advisor. Upon meeting him, Nehn immediately categorized Eamon as the duplicitous, solicitous variety of weasel that infested royal courts. _Gods, I’d hoped Ferelden would be free of this particular type of vermin. I guess they’re ubiquitous._

Smiling invitingly at Eamon, Nehn did her best to play the political innocent. If there was one thing she could guarantee, it was that Eamon would underestimate her acumen. Pride blinded people like Eamon to the possibility that someone not raised at court could best them at their games. 

Eamon obsequiously bowed to Nehn before saying, “Lady Inquisitor, welcome to Denerim. We’re honored that you chose to journey here with your husband. I hope that you aren’t too exhausted from your travels. I could have one of the servants show you to your quarters if you need to rest.”

Nehn mentally translated Eamon’s doublespeak _I’d hoped you wouldn’t come. Could you perhaps bugger off?_ before politely refusing. “Thank you, your grace. I’m feeling quite well. Ferelden is such a lovely country that I rather enjoyed my trip here.”

Although Eamon’s face was welcoming, his eyes hardened at Nehn’s response. Inwardly, Nehn gloated at his annoyance. She thoroughly enjoyed aggravating self-important nobles with her presence. _That’s right, Arl. This little elf isn’t going anywhere. Deal with it._

“Very well,” Eamon said in a tone that belied his words. “The King asked that I show you to his study when you arrived, Commander. He will be by shortly to speak with you ... and the Inquisitor.”

When Eamon had left Nehn and Cullen in Alistair’s office, she giggled at Eamon’s pique. “I don’t think he wanted me here. I’m even more curious why you were invited now.”

“Whatever it is, I doubt it will be good,” Cullen responded while studying the books lining Alistair’s shelves. “Political philosophy, military strategy, agricultural treatises, economic theory... The King is quite well read.”

Nehn wandered over and glided her hands along the books. “He _may_ have read those, but he didn’t enjoy them. The spines are hardly creased. On the other hand, these appear to be quite well worn,” Nehn pointed out while gesturing to pile of illustrated adventure novels beside the fireplace.

Cullen snorted at Nehn’s discovery. “I remember stories circulating in the Circle when Alistair was conscripted by the Grey Wardens. No one characterized him as particularly studious. Many were annoyed that he was selected. There was a tournament of some sort. He didn’t win _any_ of the competitions, but somehow he ended up chosen nonetheless.”

“That is odd,” Nehn commented. “I wonder if the Wardens knew of his parentage.”

“Regardless, the complaints stopped when the Blight began,” Cullen pointed out.

“Funny how that happens. I’d bet the hunters that were upset that Deshanna sent me to the Conclave had a similar reaction when they heard what happened to the Temple of Sacred Ashes,” Nehn quipped and then stood straight when the door squeaked open.

Alistair entered his study alone - looking world weary and petulant. His drew his sword before he recognized his guests. “Sorry for that greeting,” he said amicably as he sheathed his weapon and marched toward Nehn and Cullen. “Eamon neglected to tell me that you’d arrived. I’m Alistair,” he said easily then added as an afterthought, “King of Ferelden.”

Cullen and Nehn both bowed before Cullen spoke, “Your Majesty, it’s an honor. I’m Commander Cullen Rutherford of the Inquisition. This is my wife, Inquisitor Nehn Rutherford.”

Alistair smiled at Nehn which caused her to blush crimson _Okay, so I definitely have a type - blond Ferelden warriors._ Cullen noticed her red face and furrowed his brow. _Fenedhis, Nehn. Get a hold of your hormones._ “Your Majesty, I’m delighted to see you again,” Nehn finally replied with a curtsy.

“Oh, that’s right. We did meet before ... in Redcliffe. I’m sorry I wasn’t terribly polite that day. Having two foreign armies in my country made me a bit twitchy. Not that I’m not grateful for the Inquisition’s assistance mind you. When will your forces leave Ferelden for good anyway?” Alistair rambled.

“Umm...” was all that Nehn could manage in response to Alistair’s free form dialogue. Cullen stifled a laugh and answered for her, “Outside of our Ferelden holdings, Inquisition forces are here by invitation, Your Majesty. We are happy to assist Ferelden in rebuilding.”

“Your Ferelden holdings? Is that what you’re calling the places where you’ve planted a flag and claimed possession? Interesting... Still that’s a matter for another time,” Alistair announced while clapping his hands together. “I’m starving. We should eat.”

Nehn glanced at Cullen who seemed unfazed by the King’s informal demeanor. _Well, this should be an entertaining meal,_ she thought as she followed Alistair to the dining room.

“So, Inquisitor... that is what I should call you- right?” Alistair asked and Nehn nodded before he continued, “I’ve read varying reports regarding your feelings about being referred to as Andraste’s Herald.”

“I’m not comfortable with being called the Herald, but I can’t seem to shake it,” Nehn admitted.

“You don’t claim to be chosen?” a beautiful dark haired woman in fine robes asked from the doorway.

“Where are my manners?” Alistair trumpeted. “Wife, we’re having the Inquisitor and Commander Rutherford for dinner. Well... not _having_ them. I don’t expect they’d taste very good. We’re sharing a meal with them,” he clarified before introducing Nehn and Cullen to his wife Luisa.

Josephine had coached Nehn on the specifics of the marriage. Like most marriages among nobility, the pairing had been arranged for political expedience. Luisa was from a prominent Ferelden family that was well known for its fecundity. The hope was that she would be able to quickly produce a Theirin heir. Nearly ten years after their marriage, the couple was still childless. Luisa was roundly criticized in Ferelden for being barren, although Nehn knew it was more likely that Alistair’s tainted blood caused their infertility. Needless to say, Nehn felt uncomfortable when Luisa’s gaze fell on her very pregnant belly. _Awkward... Maybe this was why I wasn’t specifically invited._

To break the silence, Nehn returned to Luisa’s question. “No, I don’t claim to be chosen,” Nehn explained. “The Mark resulted from a misfired spell. I was simply in the wrong place at the right time.”

“Or exactly where the Maker intended you to be,” Cullen remarked dryly. 

Luisa caught Nehn rolling her eyes at Cullen’s comment and grinned broadly at the interchange. “See, husband, we’re not the only ones to disagree on matters of faith,” she said while playfully laying a hand on Alistair’s forearm. The warmth in Alistair’s eyes for his wife was genuine as was his crooked smile at her quip. 

“Alistair is having a difficult time accepting the new Divine,” Luisa confided.

“Really? I thought you fought together during the Fifth Blight,” Nehn said to Alistair.

“We did. Don’t get me wrong. I like Leliana. She’s just a bit...” Alistair hesitated as he tried to come up with an acceptable adjective.

“Nuanced?” Cullen volunteered.

“I was thinking insane, but that works as well,” Alistair joked. “Does she still believe that the Maker speaks to her in dreams? Leliana always blamed Morrigan for stealing Tabris away, but it was her instability that was the real issue. I hope she’s found some... peace, or at least decided who she wants to be.”

“I think she has. It’s good for her to get away from espionage, and her commitment to the Chantry is real,” Nehn volunteered. “Don’t worry that she’s changed entirely. She’s still adorably quirky and obsessed with shoes. She’s breeding nugs as a hobby now, too.”

“Maker’s breath! I remember when Tabris got her Schmooples. That creature never stopped snorting and snuffling. Oghren wanted to make a meal out of him, but Leliana wouldn’t hear of it,” Alistair chuckled.

“Fond memories of dark times,” Luisa commented while playing with the silverware beside her plate.

“It was the best and worst time of my life,” Alistair reminisced looking very careworn. “Do you feel the same way about the past few years, Inquisitor?”

“I suppose I do,” Nehn agreed while taking Cullen’s hand. “I’m enjoying the current stability, however. Perhaps I’ll even be able to step down in a few years.”

“You’re fortunate to have that option,” Alistair said sadly. 

Nehn’s heart wrenched at Alistair’s melancholy. It seemed he hated being King more than she despised being a figurehead for the Inquisition. She quickly changed the subject to their mutual acquaintances, and the remainder of the meal was spent happily sharing gossip and stories about their companions.

When Cullen and Nehn were shown to their room for the night, they still didn’t know why Cullen had been summoned. Nehn had originally thought that Alistair wanted to conscript Cullen for Ferelden’s army, but the King seemed disinterested in governing - much less finding officers for his forces. She now had another suspicion, but she wasn’t sure how to bring it up to Cullen. Fortunately, Cullen broached the subject for her.

“Did you notice how Alistair smelled like ozone? How he rubbed his hands together as if they were always cold?” Cullen questioned with a harsh edge to his voice as got ready for bed. 

“I wondered if I was imagining it. Do you think he’s addicted?” Nehn asked.

“You can’t _not_ be addicted to it. It’s just a matter of degree,” Cullen barked angrily while tossing his gauntlet on the sofa. “He was never initiated into the Order. He should have never taken it, never had access.”

“There were mages traveling with the Hero. Kieran said his father used lyrium. I’m sure as a King he can arrange a steady supply,” Nehn posited.

“Excuse me if I’m less than thrilled that my country is being run by a lyrium junkie," Cullen hissed.

Nehn put her hand to Cullen’s chest and looked deeply into his eyes. “Perhaps that’s why you’re here. Maybe he wants to stop. Maybe he needs your help.”

“Maker’s breath!” Cullen exclaimed before sitting on the bed and cradling his head in his hands. 

“Mention it to him. Nothing accusatory - just something like you’re glad that you stopped. If that’s why he brought you here, that’s all the opening he’ll need. If not, then you will have at least planted the seed,” Nehn advised.

Cullen wrapped his arms about Nehn’s waist and buried his head in her chest. “I’m so glad you came, love. Turning down a commission I could have handled on my own... but this... Thank the Maker you’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a tough chapter to write. I love Origins Alistair, but he turned dark in the comic series. Cullen and Nehn are going to help him get back on track.


	139. Chapter 139

Nehn sat beside Luisa on a bench facing a training ring. At breakfast that morning, Alistair had challenged Cullen to spar. Nehn glanced anxiously at Luisa before warning, “Cullen won’t go easy on him just because Alistair is his King.”

Luisa grinned proudly and taunted, “That won’t be a problem. I hope your man has kept in practice. Mine has.” 

Nehn smiled from ear to ear at Luisa’s words. For a noblewoman, Luisa wasn’t half bad. It was a shame Denerim was so far from Skyhold. She could enjoy state dinners if the Theirins were regular attendees rather than poncy Orleasians.

“Care to put some coin behind that bragging, Your Highness?” Nehn challenged.

“It almost seems unfair to take you up on that. Alistair did defeat a darkspawn horde,” Luisa bragged.

“Ten years ago,” Nehn needled, and Luisa’s eyes narrowed.

“Coin is too easy for either of us to come by. Let’s bet something more interesting,” Luisa dared. “Winner chooses the loser’s gown for Empress Celene’s Wintersend Ball.” 

“I hope you like puce colored taffeta. You’re going to be wearing it, Your Highness,” Nehn threw back to Luisa’s delight. The two women stared at each other with competitive fire in their eyes before returning their attention to their husbands who where stretching and readying themselves to fight.

Luisa leaned forward - her eyes fixed on Alistair who noticed her gaze and winked at her. Luisa blew him a kiss before standing and yelling, “If you lose, I’ll be wearing a taffeta abomination to Celene’s ball.”

“We can’t have that,” Alistair called back. “Taffeta is so last year.” Bowing to Cullen, he said, “I’m afraid I have to thoroughly trounce you. Wife’s orders.”

“You can try, Your Majesty,” Cullen smirked as he clapped his sword against his shield. 

The two men circled each other. Alistair struck first with a quick thrust of his sword which Cullen’s parried. They soon settled into a rhythm of charges, sidesteps, and counterstrikes that left no clear winner. Alistair was stronger and had a longer reach, but Cullen was faster and had more finesse. 

“Stop!” Luisa called out after several minutes of textbook templar sparring. “Stop playing nicely. Fight like you mean it.”

“Are you sure about that?” Nehn quizzed. Cullen had been sticking to the unwritten rules of practice matches. If he went all out, she had little doubt he would destroy Alistair. 

Luisa gave Nehn a smug look before saying, “You fought Wardens at Adamant. Do you really think Alistair is trying?”

“And you think Cullen is?” Nehn shot back. “Kick his ass, Commander,” she yelled emphatically to her husband.

“Sorry, Your Majesty. Wife’s orders,” Cullen remarked to Alistair.

“No holds barred?” Alistair asked. Cullen barely had time to nod his agreement before Alistair charged him. Cullen sidestepped and landed a harsh blow on the King’s hamstring.

“That’s going to bruise,” Alistair commented. “Point to you, Commander.”

Cullen wiped his brow with sleeve while he circled Alistair with his shield raised. Taking advantage of Alistair’s newly acquired limp, he closed the distance between them and landed several fast blows before pirouetting away.

“I thought I was fighting a templar - not a bloody duelist,” Alistair complained.

“No holds barred,” Cullen retorted.

“As you wish,” Alistair replied before dropping to the ground and kicking Cullen’s feet out from under him. Taken off guard, Cullen fell flat on his back and barely rolled out of the way of Alistair’s downward blow. Catching hold of the King’s ankle with his foot, Cullen pulled Alistair off balance and scrambled to right himself.

“Not bad,” Alistair complimented before lashing out at Cullen with a series of punishingly hard blows that left Cullen’s shield arm stinging. When Cullen’s shield wavered slightly after the fourth hit, Alistair pressed his advantage and landed a clean hit to Cullen’s flank.

“Point to you, Your Majesty,” Cullen acquiesced while working the shoulder of his shield arm loose. “Match point?”

Alistair looked over to Luisa to see if she approved of letting things be decided on the next round, and Cullen used his momentary distraction to slide behind him and bring a knife to his throat. “Surrender?” Cullen questioned cockily.

“Never,” Alistair answered while stomping on Cullen’s foot and sharply snapping his head backward into Cullen’s face. Cullen’s nose spewed blood, but his blade didn’t waiver at Alistair’s throat.

“And now?” Cullen asked through gritted teeth.

“I concede,” Alistair spat out before turning to Luisa. “Sorry, love. Maybe you’ll bring taffeta back in vogue.”

Luisa twisted her lips in aggravation but nodded her acceptance of defeat to Nehn, who was already making her way to Cullen. 

Cullen’s nose was badly broken, but he was wearing a triumphant smirk when Nehn reached him.

“Did you have to get blood all over your shirt?” she chided. As she conjured healing energy, she brought her hands to his nose. “This is going to hurt,” she warned before resetting the bones and cartilage.

“Maker’s balls, Nehn!” he cursed as she snapped everything back into place. 

“I told you it’d hurt,” she reminded as Cullen rubbed his perfectly reformed nose while grimacing with annoyance.

“I didn’t realize you were a healer. All I’ve ever heard is talk of you throwing fire, slashing with spectral swords and such,” Alistair said while unwrapping his wrist guards.

“My primary training was as a healer. I only knew a handful of combat spells when I went to the Conclave,” Nehn answered. 

“Quick study,” Alistair quipped.

“It’s amazing the things you can learn and do when you don’t have a choice,” Nehn replied with a tinge of weariness in her voice.

“Don’t I know it,” Alistair agreed. “Speaking of unwanted tasks, I’ve meetings with uptight aristocracy to attend. Commander, my officers have been clamoring to meet you. I’d appreciate your talking with them - as long as you don’t try to steal any of them away that is.”

“I’d be glad to oblige,” Cullen said with a bow. 

“Inquisitor, I thought we might spend the day together,” Luisa offered.

“I’d enjoy that,” Nehn accepted with genuine excitement.

After Cullen kissed Nehn’s cheek, he left to clean up and then speak with Alistair’s officers. Alistair departed after giving Luisa a peck on the lips and a playful swat on her backside.

“He’s a man-child, but he’s _my_ man-child,” Luisa sighed as she laced her arm through Nehn’s and guided the Inquisitor toward the gardens.

“It must be a byproduct of templar training,” Nehn teased. Luisa’s face paled at Nehn’s words.

“I encouraged Alistair to invite your husband. We’ve heard rumors that he’s successfully stopped taking lyrium,” Luisa whispered.

“Yes,” Nehn replied while stopping to look at Luisa directly. “He has also helped several of our former templars to quit.”

“Thank the Maker,” Luisa breathed. “For obvious reasons, Alistair’s usage can’t be common knowledge. He went _ages_ after the Blight without touching the stuff. Then a few years back he became obsessed with discovering what happened to his father. I didn’t know it at the time, but he resumed dosing himself then. He felt he needed to be able to counter magic for some reason.”

Nehn squeezed Luisa’s hand, and the Queen continued. “He didn’t even tell me he was leaving. One day he was just ... gone. I was frantic, but I had to pretend I wasn’t worried or surprised. A missing monarch could have meant another war. Eventually, he came back. He’s never told me what happened in the months he was away. Whenever I’ve asked, he just says that he wants to be a better King... a better husband...” Luisa choked out as her eyes filled with tears.

“He’s _always_ been a good man, a good husband. When I lost the first of many babies, Eamon blamed me. He wanted Alistair to put me aside, but Alistair refused. He said that he’d made a vow to the Maker to care for me, and that he wouldn’t abandon me then or ever. I fell in love with him that day. We’d been married a little over a year the first time I told him I loved him and meant it. You probably think that’s odd.”

“Not really. My first marriage was arranged. It was at least half a year before I realized how blessed I was,” Nehn confided.

“I knew you’d been married before and that your first husband had died. I didn’t realize it wasn’t a love match,” Luisa divulged. “So you really _do_ understand.” 

Nehn nodded as her own eyes grew teary. Luisa took a deep breath and went on, “I found out he was taking lyrium shortly after he returned. He didn’t try to hide it. He didn’t think it was a problem. It was simply the price he was willing to pay to regain his abilities. I tried not to let it bother me. I told myself that in all likelihood the Calling would take him long before the lyrium would. Then he started to hear what we now know was Corypheus’ false calling, and he kept taking _more_ because it helped him block it out.”

“We were barely ten years past the Blight. Ferelden needed its King, so we contacted Tabris. He was hearing the song as were all the Wardens under his command - even the new initiates. Tabris left to find a cure, and Alistair fell deeper into addiction.”

“He knew the instant you killed Corypheus. We were in the chapel praying because we’d seen the Breach reopen. Without even looking outside, he told me that you’d done it. That the song was gone,” Luisa said with a sad smile. 

“I hoped that with the false Calling lifted that he would be able to stop taking lyrium, but it has a horrible hold on him. He _wants_ to stop. He knows it’s possible -he quit after the Blight ended after all. He just needs someone to encourage him. He didn’t give up on me, and I won’t give up on him,” Luisa said firmly.

“Cullen and I will help in whatever way we can,” Nehn promised, and Luisa threw her arms around Nehn’s neck in gratitude.

“No one can know,” Luisa reiterated. “I’ll warn you that Eamon _hates_ the Inquisition. He’s already agitating to force you to disband.”

Nehn appreciated Luisa’s candor and patted the Queen’s hand before speaking, “I understand. My offer to help isn’t conditional on Ferelden supporting the Inquisition. No one deserves to be lyrium's thrall.”


	140. Chapter 140

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is much smuttier than average (for me). If that bothers you, skip it. There is no plot advancement. :)

Cullen’s head was throbbing - largely from stress but also from being head butted earlier that day. After dinner, King Alistair had approached him about getting off lyrium. Cullen was happy that Alistair wanted to get clean but was worried about how withdrawals would affect his King and his country. Nehn slid behind him in bed and began to rub his shoulders while sending healing magics into his body.

“You should be looking after yourself - and the baby. Don’t waste your strength on me,” he protested.

“Maybe I enjoy having my hands on you, Commander,” Nehn purred as she continued to knead his knotted muscles and emit waves of healing energy into the tight coils.

Cullen grunted as Nehn broke a particularly hard knot loose and then sent tingly regenerative magic into the once painful place. “Maker, that feels wonderful,” Cullen moaned as he let his head fall forward to give Nehn better leverage on his shoulders.

“Mmm hmmm,” Nehn agreed as she continued her massage but added kisses to Cullen’s neck and shoulders to her regimen. “I’ve been waiting all day to get you alone.”

“Really?” Cullen said with a coy grin as he looked over his shoulder at Nehn. “And what have you been planning to do with me once we were alone?”

“Everything,” Nehn replied while arching an eyebrow invitingly. That was the only opening Cullen needed. As her pregnancy had progressed, the frequency of their joining had fallen off precipitously. Nehn had happily and enthusiastically seen to his needs during that time, but she had shown little interest in having him touch her. He ached to be with her.

Turning around fully, he began to kiss Nehn hungrily while sliding his hands along the curves of her body. She felt wonderful - soft and warm, but he needed more. After tugging her night dress off, he encouraged Nehn to lay back on the pillows as he kissed and caressed her body. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered while nuzzling her breasts and slipping his hand into her smalls. Nehn’s back arched at his touch as she ran her fingers through his hair.

He smirked against her skin when she panted something in elven and pulled at his shoulders encouraging him to kiss her. Whenever she slipped out of using the Common Tongue, he knew he had her. Refusing to move up to her lips, he continued nipping and kissing her breasts while working circles with his hand below. Nehn’s voice turned sharp as she uttered a few elven curse words before giving herself over to him fully. Her hesitance at allowing her own pleasure was a mystery to him. She’d once explained that a good Dalish wife always saw to her husband _first_ , and that she felt incredibly selfish otherwise. Some day he’d convince her that seeing her in ecstasy was more important than finding his own release. Until then, he’d just have to keep chipping away at her hold ups.

“Isala ne,” Nehn begged as she shuddered against him. He’d had to ask what that meant the first time she said it to him. _I need you._ As if a woman as strong and beautiful as her could need _anything_ , much less him. The words never failed to swell him with pride and desire. She not only _needed_ him. She _chose_ him.

Figuring out a position that was both practical and comfortable with Nehn’s very large belly was a challenge, but eventually they found one that worked. Cullen kissed the back of Nehn’s neck while cupping one of her breasts in his hand as he seated himself inside her. She felt too good. Even if he recited the Chant backwards in his head, he wasn’t going to last long. “Nehn, I...” he started to apologize when she pressed back against him and said, “Garas, ma vhenan’ara.” _Come, my love._

That was nearly his undoing. She was always that way - selfless, loving. Maker, he adored her - if only he could show her how much. Placing his other hand on her hip bone to get better leverage, he started moving slowly and gently. He didn’t want to hurt her or the baby nor did he want to finish too quickly. Nehn didn’t like his tentative attentions and pleaded, “Isala elvarel.” _I need more._

Never one to deny his lady’s desires, Cullen sped up his pace. Much to his chagrin, he found himself spilling into her after a few quick, hard thrusts. Nehn didn’t seem to mind his fast finish and hummed contentedly as she leaned back against him. “Ar lath ma,” she cooed while resting the back of her head on his shoulder as they laid side by side still joined together. _I love you._

Cullen squeezed her to him tighter and whispered, “I love you, too,” against the shell of her ear. She shivered unconsciously from the heat of his words on the delicate skin. He didn’t know if it was a trait throughout the elven race or just one of Nehn’s quirks, but her ears were exceptionally sensitive. He had studied her body like a map and knew its every weakness - the back of her left knee, the juncture of her neck and jaw, her wrists, her ears. He loved to exploit his advantages - what good was being a strategist otherwise?

Still there was one thing he wanted that she refused him. He wanted to taste her. Any time he’d tried to get close, she’d clamped her legs shut and forced his attentions elsewhere. “It’s not proper. A Dalish man would never do such things,” she’d once told him. Her reluctance made no sense - especially since she loved having her lips on him. If there was a taboo amongst the Dalish against all oral sex, he could understand it better, but it was entirely one sided. 

When she turned around and began kissing him ardently, Cullen resolved to try to convince her again. He was certain that she’d enjoy it. He knew he would ... if only he could figure out how to get her past seeing it as something dirty. Then it struck him ... perhaps she needed to indulge that notion. He began kissing and caressing her body - slowly working his way lower.

As she started to protest, Cullen took a new tact. Rather than trying to convince her it was completely acceptable, he looked at her wantonly and growled, “Let this shem defile you, da’len.” That was all it took - his acknowledgement that it was something forbidden. Nehn blushed bright red and covered her face as she nodded her assent. 

He took his time - knowing this might be his only chance to have her in this way. She tasted sweet as he pressed his tongue against her. _Maker, I could die happy right now._ If Nehn’s squeaks and giggles were any indicator, she was enjoying herself, yet she continued to hide her face with her hands. _Still embarrassed._ Stopping what he was doing, Cullen gripped her thighs firmly with his hands and ordered, “Look at me. Watch me have you as no elven would.”

Nehn peeked through her fingers at her husband and her breath hitched before letting her hands fall to the sheets. Cullen held her gaze as he kissed her sex. The string of curse words that came from Nehn’s mouth as her eyes started to flutter shut told him he’d broken past her defenses. 

“No,” he directed. “Eyes open. See how a shemlen shows his devotion.”

Nehn blushed a vivid red but obeyed. Cullen almost praised her for being a good girl but bit back his words. She was not being any definition of “good” in her mind. She was being very, very bad, and he wanted to make sure she loved every second of it. Her brought her to climax several times before she begged him to stop. “No more... I can’t...” she panted. He nodded his agreement and worked his way up to her lips kissing his way up her body.

When she turned her head away as he tried to kiss her lips, Cullen knew he had another wall to breach. “Kiss me,” he demanded before whispering, “Taste yourself,” in her ear. Nehn gasped at the notion but complied - finding his lips eagerly and parting them with her tongue as her fingernails dug into his shoulders.

After they finally stopped kissing, Cullen asked smugly, “Any thoughts?”

“Thank the gods I married a shem,” Nehn answered while cuddling up to his chest.


	141. Chapter 141

Cullen should have realized something was up when Nehn came back from Denerim’s marketplace with a wagon load of baby gear. He should have listened when she said that she wanted to get back to Skyhold. He should have wondered why she was staying up until all hours of the night frantically crocheting baby bonnets and blankets. He noticed all those things, but he thought they were inconsequential effects of hormones and boredom.

They had stayed a week longer in Denerim than originally planned to allow Cullen and Alistair time to map out a strategy for getting Alistair off lyrium. Alistair’s Warden metabolism allowed him to consume staggering quantities of lyrium, so Cullen was concerned that quitting outright would kill the King. They settled on the idea of halving Alistair’s dosage every two weeks. It would be a longer process but hopefully one with fewer side effects. When she wasn’t shopping or crocheting, Nehn had shared spells and potions with a trusted healer and alchemist who would help control Alistair’s physical withdrawal symptoms. It would fall to Luisa to help him with psychological withdrawal. Nehn coached Luisa on subtle signs that would show her Alistair was struggling, and they brainstormed interventions and distractions for those times.

Cullen should have packed the carriage when Nehn said that she really thought they needed to get home. He should have, but he didn’t. Instead he extended their stay in Denerim another week, so he could talk Alistair through the largest decrease in dosage the King would endure. Nehn didn’t argue with his decision. She knew how important it was to Cullen and Ferelden that Alistair was successful in beating his addiction. She also knew that the baby had dropped in the past week and that she sometimes found small milk stains on her breast band.

Nehn didn’t particularly care _where_ the baby was born. She’d delivered enough children in forests and along roadsides to know that location mattered little to a child that was ready to enter the world. She had hoped to have the baby with Sylvia’s support, however. If his pale face and sweaty palms when Garel was being born were any indicator, Cullen would not be much use to her when the peanut made his entrance. She kept quiet about her reservations. Cullen had enough on his mind.

Nehn considered giving Cullen a heads up when she found a bloody show in the chamber pot, but she opted to stay silent. He’d try to put her to bed or some other shemlen nonsense. The busier she kept herself the faster the waiting would go, so she launched into cleaning - everything. She washed and ironed their clothes, polished their armor, oiled their leathers, sharpened his blades, and balanced the energies of her staves. Fortunately, Cullen returned from meeting with Alistair as she prepared to waddle out to the stables to bathe and curry their horses.

“What in the Maker’s name has gotten into you?” Cullen quizzed while looking around their room. Nehn was always fastidious, but everything was entirely spotless - even his training outfit had been bleached and ironed to pristine perfection.

“I needed to do some cleaning. Do you have time to help me with the horses?” Nehn quizzed in a near manic tone.

“The horses? Nehn, the castle has grooms and stable boys. The horses are fine,” Cullen contended.

“I don’t know...” Nehn replied hesitantly. “We should probably check.”

“Nehn...” Cullen said warily while furrowing his brow. Sylvia had acted similarly crazed shortly before Garel came. _Maker’s breath! How far along _is_ she? _ Cullen thought as he calculated Nehn’s due date. _Two and a half weeks from today. Nehn was never early for anything. Surely they had more time._

When Nehn bit her lip and shrugged apologetically, Cullen nearly fell over in a dead faint. He wasn’t ready for this. They weren’t even at home. He had consulted with Elindra and midwives to make sure Nehn delivered safely- at Skyhold. No, they were to return to Skyhold, rest for a few days, and then have the baby. He had it all planned out...

“I don’t think it will be today,” Nehn finally admitted. “I’ve felt nothing more than a few twinges.”

“A few twinges?” Cullen repeated as his head swirled with confusion and concern.

“Nothing too bad. It isn’t as if I’ve had to stop moving or talking for most of them,” Nehn answered nonchalantly.

“Most of them?” Cullen echoed. Nehn replied with a sheepish smile and another shrug while Cullen sunk down on the bed.

“So we’re not leaving for Skyhold tomorrow?” Cullen asked already knowing the answer.

“We could, but it might be wiser to stay put,” Nehn said matter-of-factly as she picked up her crochet hook and sat down to finish a blanket.

“Were you going to say anything to me?” Cullen quizzed.

Nehn cocked her head to the side before answering, “Eventually. I knew you’d get worked up, and I honestly don’t need the stress of coddling you. I’ve enough to manage right now.”

“Coddling me?” Cullen repeated mechanically. He was struggling to process what she was saying. Did she really think he wouldn’t be helpful?

“Look, if you want to make yourself useful, you can tell the healers that I’ll likely have the baby in the next few days and ask for the alchemists to mix some mother’s tea. They should know the recipe, but just in case, it’s equal parts fenugreek, blessed thistle, and fennel. That will help my milk supply. And you’d really better start thinking of a name,” Nehn rambled.

Cullen nodded still dumbfounded by the idea that his son would soon be in his arms. He made no move toward the door, however, which irked Nehn to no end.

“What are you waiting for? Go! Shoo!” she said while flicking her hands at Cullen.

“What are you going to be doing?” he asked while gripping the back of his neck.

“I’m going to finish this blanket. Then I’m going to take a nap - if I can,” Nehn answered tersely.

“If you can?” Cullen queried cautiously.

“I’m getting a bit more uncomfortable. If I can rest, I will. Otherwise ...”

Nehn didn’t have to finish that sentence. She’d told him what she needed. He wouldn’t let her down. He’d show her that he didn’t need to be coddled. That he could be strong when she needed him to be. “Healers, apothecary, name...” he repeated with determination as he headed for the door. He stopped short before opening it. “And Nehn... I love you,” he added before taking the handle.

“I know,” she said with a genuine smile before returning to her crocheting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! Still struggling with a name. Last chance for one of you to save the day with something awesome. We don't want the poor peanut to be named Fred.
> 
> Contenders are as follows:  
> Greagoir, Keran, Thrask - people from Cullen's past that were "good" templars  
> Dilon - RHR's suggestion, means "loyal"  
> Brannon - "strong" may be too close to _Branson_ Cullen's brother's name  
>  Gabriel - "God is my strength, man of God"; questionable given Nehn's agnosticism  
> Wyatt - "guide"  
> Duncan - "dark skinned warrior"; (a suggestion from Alistair of course)  
> Ewan - "young warrior"  
> Gideon - "great warrior" also name of Fenris and Samson's voice actor Gideon Emery  
> Ellis - nod to Greg Ellis, voice of Cullen  
> Galen- calm; Maker knows Cullen and Nehn could use a level-headed child. Suggested by Iduna
> 
> HELP ME, OBI WAN, YOU'RE MY ONLY HOPE! Seriously, please weigh in with your thoughts.


	142. Chapter 142

Cullen knew he needed to see to his tasks. _Healers, apothecary, name..._ he repeated in his head as he gently closed the door to the room where he and Nehn were staying. He walked a few steps down the hall and stopped. _Healers, apothecary, name..._ Which healers though? Those that served the royal palace or the Inquisition? He thought about returning to ask Nehn which she meant but talked himself out of it. _She’d probably get furious and take off to tell them herself cursing the entire way in elven. No, I’ll handle it on my own. I’ll just tell all of them. Better safe than sorry._

Walking more quickly, he reiterated _Healers, apothecary, name..._ as he headed out to find an Inquisition messenger. _Healers, apothecary...names_ Waving down one of his men, he said definitively, “I need you to get the names of our healers and alchemists stationed in Denerim.”

“Anything else, sir?” the messenger queried.

“That will be all,” Cullen answered. The messenger had turned on his heel to leave before Cullen realized he’d already gotten things wrong. “Wait!” he called out frantically. 

The messenger spun around and looked at his Commander expectantly.

“Belay that. I don’t need the _names_ of the healers. I need you to tell them that the baby is coming. Not now... Well maybe now. Probably not _right_ now, but soon,” Cullen said in one breath while the messenger’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the man who hadn’t flinched in the Arbor Wilds or at Adamant looking absolutely frazzled at the prospect of his wife giving birth.

“Are you alright, sir?” the messenger asked cautiously.

“What? Of course I’m alright. I’m fine,” Cullen protested. Clearing his throat and trying his best to sound authoritative, he added, “You have your orders.”

“Yes, sir,” the messenger said resolutely while saluting Cullen with a hand to his chest.

_Healers, apothecary, names..._ Cullen recited. _Better tell the healer here as well ... just to be safe._ Cullen marched down the spiral stairs leading from the guest quarters to the main keep. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he couldn’t remember how to find either the healer or apothecary’s offices even though he had been there just a few days earlier with Nehn setting up treatments for Alistair. He stood in place befuddled and thoroughly aggravated with himself. He could remember maps he had studied years ago, but he was drawing a blank on the layout of the palace.

A young elven man wandered by with a serving tray and then returned a few minutes later empty handed to find Cullen still standing in the same place.

“Can I help you?” the servant asked.

Cullen nodded. 

“How, sir?” he prodded.

“Oh! I need to speak with the healer and alchemist,” Cullen replied suddenly remembering his purpose.

“I could give you directions,” the servant said but then seemed to change his mind after eyeing Cullen closely. “I’ll just take you there. It’s on my way,” he lied. The healers were nowhere near the kitchens where he worked, but it was clear to him that the tall warrior before him required assistance more than a few bureaucrats needed their lunch trays delivered.

Cullen started to protest but thought better of it. “That would be nice. Thank you,” he agreed.

The young man guided Cullen through the keep to the apothecary’s office. The healer was nearby, and he considered just pointing out the location but he decided to stick with the blond man who kept gripping his neck and mumbling “Healer, apothecary, names...” under his breath.

“The apothecary, sir,” the servant announced while gesturing to the door.

Cullen nodded and went inside leaving the door open, so the servant eavesdropped on the conversation to get a better idea of what exactly was going on. Cullen first told the alchemist that he needed mother’s milk. Then he corrected himself and said that he needed things to make mother’s milk. After that he got completely flustered (and red-faced) as he said his wife had the things to make the milk but needed some tea - tea that the apothecary was supposed to know how to concoct.

The servant clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing as he finally placed who the flustered warrior was - Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition. And the wife who was equipped for milk production was the Inquisitor - a pretty elf that was very, very pregnant. _No wonder he’s a mess. She must be in labor,_ he reasoned. 

As he continued to listen in, the elf was impressed with the apothecary’s professionalism. With all the Commander’s flubbing and stammering, she still determined that he was asking for mother’s tea. She recited the recipe that she usually prepared - equal parts dried fennel, blessed thistle, and fenugreek- and offered to ready some immediately. Commander Rutherford seemed to be genuinely relieved when she rambled off the ingredients. “Thank the Maker you knew that. I’d already forgotten. Yes, that’s what she wants. Thank you,” he gushed.

“I’ll have some delivered to your suite, Commander,” the alchemist said reassuringly. “Would you perhaps like something to calm your nerves?”

“My nerves?” Cullen repeated in an offended tone. “My nerves are just fine. Thank you very much.”

“Of course, sir,” the apothecary replied while winking at the servant.

The elf stepped forward and said, “Let me show you to the healers. Then I’d be happy to get you back to your quarters. The palace is practically a maze.”

“I’d noticed that,” Cullen agreed.

The servant surmised that the Commander’s wife might have mentioned feeling her time was nearing to the healers or perhaps they were well-acquainted with the panicked look that new fathers sometimes got. In any event, the second Cullen entered their offices one of them stood and said, “Does she think the baby is coming?”

“Yes. Maybe not right now but soon. She kept grimacing when I talked to her,” he reported.

“Has her water broken? How close were her contractions? Could she talk to you through them?” the healer asked.

“I don’t know. Was I supposed to know that?” Cullen answered frantically. 

“It’s alright. I’ll send for a midwife. She’ll be able to sort things. You’re doing fine. Why don’t you sit down for a moment?” the healer said gently.

“That’s a good idea,” Cullen said as he slumped into a chair and started to rub his forehead. “I was supposed to do three things. Healer, apothecary... and something else. She’ll be livid if I don’t get it right. Healer, apothecary...”

“Name,” the elven servant volunteered. “You were mumbling it earlier.”

Cullen paled at the man’s words. He had an annotated list of potential names ... at Skyhold. He couldn’t remember a single one. _Maker’s breath..._ Looking at the servant who had been so helpful to him, he asked a single question, “What’s your name by the way?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Cullen is going to name his son after a random servant because he'd rather do that than admit to Nehn that he left his list back home.
> 
> So here's the question. What's the servant's name? Two choices and the most popular wins.
> 
> Gideon or Ellis
> 
> (FYI - Dear daughter fervently nixed Galen. There's evidently some young adult fiction with a very jerky character with that name. Gotta keep the 15 year old happy.)


	143. Chapter 143

“Ellis, sir. My name is Gideon Ellis,” the elf replied with a slight bow. 

_Thank the Maker he isn’t called Heinrich or Mafaerath,_ Cullen thought as he smiled at the young man. “You’ve been most helpful. Will you get into trouble for neglecting your duties?”

“Not likely, sir. My mother is head chef - has been since King Maric was on the throne. She’ll understand,” Gideon answered. “If you’re ready, I can take you back to your wife.”

“Yes, she’ll be expecting an update,” Cullen said as he stood quickly and looked very woozy. The servant grabbed Cullen’s arm to steady him. “Got up too fast,” Cullen noted sheepishly. “Perhaps I _am_ a bit nervous.”

Gideon nodded at Cullen’s admission. “No need to worry. The midwife delivered King Cailan - and me,” he added with a wink.

Cullen chuckled at the elf’s endorsement. “Well then, she obviously knows her business.”

“If I might go so far... perhaps we should get you a quick bite to eat. You look peckish, and it would give the midwife and healers a chance to check on your wife,” Gideon suggested to Cullen after they left the healers’ offices.

“Good idea. There’s no telling when I’ll have another chance to eat,” Cullen agreed.

After a simple meal in the kitchens with Gideon’s mother doting on him, Cullen felt much better. _There’s nothing a good Ferelden stew won’t right,_ Cullen’s mother Martha had always proclaimed. It seemed Gideon’s held to the same beliefs.

Bolstered by the stew and the Ellis’s support, Cullen returned to the guest wing of the castle to find a myriad of healers outside the door to his suite. He wasn’t the only one having a big reaction to the Inquisitor giving birth. It seemed nearly every healer and midwife in Denerim had been called into service.

“Is something wrong?” he asked in a panic to one of the healers he recognized as serving the Inquisition.

“She won’t let us stay, sir. There’s a midwife in there with her, but her magic... she’s having trouble with it. She sent the guards to find templars,” the healer reported.

“What?” Cullen shouted as the blood drained from his face. Pressing past the assortment of healers, he opened the door to see Nehn bent over at the waist, gripping the back of a chair, and moaning. The room was tingling with magic, and Nehn’s mark was glowing a vivid green.

“Maker’s breath, what’s going on?” he asked as he rushed to Nehn’s side. “You sent for templars? Why?”

“The mark... when the pain comes, it flairs,” Nehn panted. “I’m worried I’ll open a rift. Solas was able to dampen it somehow. The healers tried dispelling. It wasn’t enough... I thought a templar might... Oh gods....” she broke off as her knuckles grew white from squeezing the back of the chair and her head fell forward.

“Breathe, love. In and out. Nice and slow. This babe’s in a hurry. It won’t be long,” the midwife soothed while rubbing Nehn’s back.

As the intensity of the contraction built, Cullen saw and heard the anchor begin to glow and pop. Nehn looked like she was in complete agony. What scared him more than anything, though, was that she wasn’t cursing or snapping at him. Usually, when she was sick or injured she was incredibly testy and borderline evil. Now she seemed barely present - as if she was having to use all her concentration to control the magic bubbling in her hand.

A guard arrived a short while later to say that they were having difficulty locating any templars. _No surprise there,_ Cullen thought angrily. _Most of them are dead._

“I’ll take it if you need me to,” he volunteered, and Nehn grabbed his arm with frightening strength. 

“Absolutely not,” she hissed while staring at him with wild fury in her eyes.

“Alright,” he answered. “I had to offer.”

“We know someone who could help,” she hinted.

_Alistair_ , Cullen realized. “I’m on it,” he said decisively. “Just hold on.”

Leaving the room, Cullen looked around for Gideon. “I need your assistance again.”

“Anything, sir,” the elf offered.

“Take me to the King,” Cullen ordered.

“He’s usually in meetings with his council this time of day. I’ll show you the way.”

“Quickly,” Cullen commanded and followed Gideon as he broke out into a jog.

In a few minutes, they were outside the council chambers which were heavily guarded. When Cullen approached the doors, the men drew their swords.

“Stand down,” Cullen barked. “I'm here on urgent Inquisition business.” Whether it was his commanding demeanor or his words, the guards sheathed their weapons and allowed him inside.

Alistair was seated at the head of a long table with his head resting on his left hand while his right hand was busy doodling on a piece or parchment as his advisers droned in the background. While the bureaucrats took great offense at Cullen’s presence, Alistair seemed relieved. “Need something?” the King asked eagerly.

“Yes, Your Majesty. It’s a matter of some import and delicacy,” Cullen replied. Alistair nearly jumped out of his chair at the chance to leave the meeting early.

“Thank the Maker you rescued me,” Alistair joked to Cullen as the men left the council chambers. “I felt certain I was going to die of boredom.”

“I need your help. _We_ need your help,” Cullen said urgently.

“Whatever you need, you’ll have it,” Alistair replied his voice turning serious. Cullen obviously wasn’t just breaking him out of a council session for a quick spar.

As the men returned to the guest wing, Cullen outlined the situation for Alistair.

“So she wants me to try what - a spell purge or cleansing aura?” Alistair asked as they reached the door to Nehn and Cullen’s suite. He stopped short of opening the door and whistled, “Andraste’s mercy, can you feel that?”

Cullen nodded somberly. Even with the faintest traces of lyrium in his body, he could sense the wild magic emanating from the room. He suspected the forces were strong enough that even a dwarf might feel them.

“Alright then. Alistair to the rescue. It’ll be like the good old days,” the King joked.

When they entered the room, Nehn hadn’t moved although the air was even more charged with magic. The old midwife stood by her side and looked confused by the King’s presence.

“Your Majesty?” the midwife asked.

“The Commander thinks I might be able to soothe her. The Inquisitor and I have both experienced great stress in our lives,” Alistair ad libbed. “If you wouldn’t mind giving us a few minutes alone...”

The midwife looked unconvinced that Alistair could assist in a mage's childbirth, but she was in no position to argue with a King. “Yes, Sire. I’ll be right outside if you need me,” she said with a bow.

Once she had left, Nehn spoke. “Thank you,” she breathed in a voice that was strained with exhaustion and pain. “I need you to use your strongest purge - the smite I think you call it.”

Cullen and Alistair looked at each other in abject horror. A holy smite was an exceptionally powerful maneuver. It completely incapacitated most mages, and even stripped non-mages of their strength. The idea of using it on a woman that was in labor was incredibly dangerous and utterly unacceptable.

“I can’t. I have no idea what it would do to you or the baby,” Alistair argued.

“You must. I can’t control the mark. If I open a rift, I won’t be able to fight the demons that come through...” Nehn groaned.

“It’s just the anchor that’s causing problems? Not your ordinary magic?” Cullen queried.

“Just the mark. The rest I can manage,” Nehn said weakly. “Please... hurry. I can feel another contraction starting,” she begged.

“I’ll shield her,” Cullen told Alistair. “I’ll hold her hand in front of me, and take the brunt of the force myself.”

“Cullen...” Nehn protested.

“Let me do this. Let me protect you. Please, love,” he said gently to Nehn while putting his hand to her cheek.

“I don’t deserve you,” she answered as she nodded her agreement.

Alistair wasn’t wild about the idea, but he saw no other options. Nehn’s marked hand was glowing and swirling with eerie green magic. Cullen took her hand, kissed it, and held it in front of him while she clung to his back. When he was sure that Nehn was completely shielded by his body, he signalled Alistair.

“This is going to hurt,” Alistair warned.

“I know,” Cullen replied while bracing for the blow.

Alistair didn’t hesitate and unleashed a forceful smite that purged the room of nearly all traces of magic. Cullen grunted at the impact, and Alistair caught him so he wouldn’t fall back on Nehn.

“That’ll bruise,” Cullen jested as he slumped against Alistair. “Love?”

“I'm fine. The mark is stable, but the baby is coming. Now,” Nehn answered through gritted teeth.

“Out of the frying pan...” Alistair teased as he sat Cullen in the chair Nehn had been gripping earlier. “I’ll go get the midwife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen pulls it together when Nehn needs him. "Whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man," as the old song says...


	144. Chapter 144

Alistair had barely left the room before Nehn clenched Cullen’s legs and squatted before him.

“What are you doing?” he asked completely confused by her behavior. 

“Having your son,” Nehn snipped as her fingernails dug into his legs, and she rested her head on his thigh.

“Now?” Cullen gasped as he tried to sit up straighter. He was sluggish and uncoordinated from the smite, so his attempts to right himself only made Nehn’s balance waiver.

“Stop moving,” she growled. “And yes - now. Do you think I’d be like this otherwise?”

A grin crossed Cullen’s lips at hearing his wife’s annoyance. The terrified mage battling uncontrolled magic in her hand was gone replaced by the short-tempered elf he loved. It would all be fine. 

“Oh my! Things are progressing quickly I see,” the midwife exclaimed when she entered the room. She called out to two healers in case there were complications and came to Nehn’s side. “We can move you to the bed, or support you where you are. I know the Dalish prefer to using birthing stools, but I’m afraid we don’t have one on hand.”

“Here,” Nehn ordered. She wasn’t wasting energy on another syllable, and she wasn’t about to move.

“As you wish,” the midwife declared. She gingerly lowered herself to the floor and checked Nehn’s progress. “Why you’ve just about finished without us,” she laughed causing the creases on her well-lined face to deepen. “Go on... one or two more good pushes, and it’s all behind you.”

Nehn bobbed her head. She knew as much already. She took a deep breath and bore down hard - feeling indescribable pressure and then euphoric relief as the baby’s head and shoulders passed. 

“A little more,” the midwife coached while Cullen craned his neck for a better view. He could see the midwife sitting crosslegged on the floor behind Nehn - her hands positioned to catch the baby. Was this really happening? Was he really watching his son be born while he sat near paralyzed by a holy smite?

“Good girl,” the midwife cheered as Nehn trembled from the rush of emotions and hormones as her son slid out. “Now ease up. Let me look him over,” the midwife directed as she examined a very irate looking baby boy who started crying as soon as she swabbed out his mouth. “A fine boy,” she proclaimed while Nehn clamored to hold her son.

“Let us move you to the bed, dearie. It’ll be easier for him to find your breast if you’re not bobbling around,” the midwife advised. Nehn nodded her agreement, and the healers gently helped her transfer.

“One of you better see to Papa over there. He looks the worst off,” the midwife instructed. Cullen didn’t protest as a blond haired mage with a face full of freckles poured regenerative magics into him although he wished she wasn’t blocking his view of Nehn and his son.

When the healer finished, Cullen was finally able to see his family. Nehn was, of course, crying, but they were ecstatic tears as she cradled a chubby infant who was eagerly taking to her breast. “He’s enormous!” she marveled having been accustomed to much smaller elven infants.

“I’d wager he’s eight and a half pounds if he’s an ounce. That’s a lot of baby for a woman as small as you. You did well, Mama,” the midwife congratulated as she examined the afterbirth which she had caught in a basin. “Came out cleanly,” she reassured Nehn. “When the babe is finished with his first meal, we’ll change the sheets and your clothes, diaper and dress him, and leave you be for awhile.” Turning to Cullen, she said, “Have you a name for your son? Your wife told me she’d given you that job.”

“Uh... yes. Well, maybe,” Cullen hedged. “I was thinking Ellis? Or maybe Gideon?” One of the healers - an elf who must have known his son’s namesake - snickered slightly. Cullen blanched, but she gave him an approving nod for his choice and put a finger to her lips indicating she wouldn’t tell Nehn the name’s origin.

Nehn studied the baby’s face as she repeated the choices. “I can’t tell which suits him better. Come, look for yourself.”

Cullen stiffly got out of the chair and lumbered closer to Nehn and the baby. The healer’s efforts had helped him regain his strength, but he was incredibly sore. Holding on to one of the bedposts to steady himself, Cullen stared at his son who was fighting to stay awake as he suckled. The baby’s eyes would start to close, and he’d begin to let loose of Nehn’s breast. Then he’d rouse wide-eyed and begin enthusiastically working his mouth again. Just when he’d find a good rhythm, he’d start to get sleepy and the process would repeat. Cullen began laughing, and Nehn glared at him.

“He looks drunk,” Cullen chortled.

“He’s perfect,” Nehn huffed while turning slightly to shield the baby from Cullen’s view.

Cullen leaned closer to Nehn and kissed her cheek. “Of course he is... he takes after his mother.”

“Sweet talker,” she said dismissively before turning her head to give Cullen a quick kiss. “So who is he - Ellis or Gideon?” 

“How about using both - Gideon Ellis?” Cullen suggested.

“Gideon Ellis Rutherford, welcome to the world, da’len,” Nehn whispered to the baby as she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“A good name,” the old midwife declared approvingly. “Now Papa, go sit down again. I’ll have you hold your boy while we get his mama situated.”

Cullen instinctively grabbed the back of his neck. The baby was minutes old. “Are you sure?” he fretted.

“That you need to sit down? Absolutely,” the midwife answered as she pushed Cullen toward the chair. “Now take off that metal you’re wearing,” she ordered authoritatively, and Cullen complied without thought.

“Liza, bring little Gideon Ellis here. Charla, I’ll help you tend to his mama,” she commanded as she rested against her cane. “I’m not as spry as I once was,” she quipped. “I wasn’t sure I’d get off the floor once I got down, but I managed. Something about seeing a new life begin always puts a spring in my step,” she explained to Cullen who grinned widely in reply.

Cullen inhaled deeply as Liza placed his tightly swaddled son in his arms. Fighting back tears, Cullen closed his eyes and whispered a prayer of thanks to the Maker before trying to piece together words to tell Nehn how he felt. “Nehn, I ...” he began but quickly choked up. 

Her reply was soft and sweet. “Me, too, vhenan. Me, too.”


	145. Chapter 145

Nehn had handed Gideon off to Cullen, so she could soak in a tub filled with epsom salts. As she lowered herself into the hot water, she sighed at the relief it gave her. _No one ever bothers to mention just how much your bum hurts after having a baby,_ she thought as she let her head rest on the back of the tub. Closing her eyes and relishing the time alone, she conjured restorative magics to speed her recovery and let her mind fall blank.

Her relaxation was soon interrupted by Cullen’s panicked voice coming from the other side of the dressing screen. “Something’s wrong,” he announced. “I went to change his diaper, and it’s full of greenish tarry stuff. I think he’s broken. Should I get a healer?”

_Fenedhis! Can’t you manage for a moment on your own?_ she thought but took a deep breath before speaking. Cullen was trying. This was his first child, and outside of Garel, he hadn’t really been around babies. “It’s fine, Cullen. The first few poops always look that way. Then they turn yellow,” she said patiently.

“Are you sure? This looks highly irregular...” Cullen protested.

“I’m certain. His bowels are working well. Just clean it up with a wet rag and put a fresh diaper on him,” she instructed. _And let me have a few minutes to myself for pity’s sake._

Cullen wasn’t taking her word for it and marched around to the other side of the screen baby and dirty diaper in hand. “Look at this. It’s disgusting. That can’t be normal,” he proclaimed.

Nehn glanced at the diaper unimpressed and gave Cullen a withering glare. “It is entirely normal. Now put a diaper on him before he...” she was going to say “pees on you,” but Gideon seemed to read her mind - christening his father’s formal uniform enthusiastically as Cullen tried to staunch the flow with the clean side of the dirty diaper.

Nehn bit her tongue to keep from laughing at her mortified husband. _Welcome to fatherhood,_ she thought as a grin crossed her face in spite of her best efforts. 

“Maker’s breath!” Cullen exclaimed as he raced away to find a clean diaper for Gideon and a change of clothes for himself. She debated whether to get out of the tub and help Cullen, but she decided that would only reinforce her husband’s belief that he was ill-equipped to manage the baby. Flicking her wrist, she warmed the water in the tub to near scalding and laid back once more.

She had a few blissful minutes to herself before Cullen appeared on her side of the screen again. He had changed into his training outfit and fashioned a makeshift apron out of one her robes by tying the arms about his neck. Nehn started laughing uncontrollably when she saw that he had cinched the pink and purple plaidweave “apron” with his sword belt and had put a large towel over the shoulder where Gideon rested wearing only a diaper. “Armed for battle with a newborn, Commander?” she teased.

Cullen scowled. “I don’t have many suitable outfits,” he said tersely. “I can ill afford to loose one to an errant spit up.”

Nehn had to fight to keep from snorting. “A wise choice,” she finally stammered.

Cullen growled slightly as he held up baby clothes. “I can’t figure out how to get these on him. He’s too floppy.”

Nehn exhaled and stood up from the tub. She should have known better than to think she’d be able to soak unmolested. “Give me a chance to throw on some clothes of my own, and I’ll help you. In the meantime, put a blanket over him, so he doesn’t catch cold,” she instructed.

“Oh, right - a blanket,” Cullen echoed while rushing off to get one on Gideon as if he’d get pneumonia if he spent another second in the open air.

Nehn shook her head and sighed. For as calm and collected as Cullen was on the battlefield, he was an absolute wreck around his new family. Since Gideon’s arrival the afternoon before, he had oscillated between hovering over her and fretting over the baby. As far as Nehn could tell, Cullen had yet to sleep or eat, and it was beginning to take its toll. Dressing herself quickly, she took Gideon from Cullen’s arms and laid him down on their bed. After showing Cullen how to bunch up the baby’s gown to slip it over his head and then work his arms into the sleeves, she picked up Gideon who had started to cry in a high pitched squeal.

“Hungry ... again,” Nehn groaned as she slipped a tender breast out of her gown and offered it to her son. Her milk let down in a gush which overwhelmed Gideon, who started choking. “Mythal’s mercy!” Nehn cursed as she righted the baby and patted him on the back.

“It’s like a fountain,” Cullen said in awe as he stared at her breast which was still spewing milk.

Nehn gave him a dirty look before putting Gideon back to her chest. “It isn’t as if I have control over it,” she snipped. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Cullen said gently. “It’s just so ... bizarre.”

“That’s one word for it,” Nehn huffed. She was exhausted and sore. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss the marvels of breastfeeding with her husband. What she really wanted to do was have a few minutes alone - no baby crying to be fed or held and no husband needing reassurances that everything was okay. _Who am I kidding? I’m not going to have a moment’s peace for at least another two years, and by then I’ll probably be knocked up with another one._

Cullen sat down on the bed beside her and put his arm around her while kissing the top of her head. “I love you,” he whispered, and Nehn’s heart melted as she rested her head against his shoulder. “I love you, too,” she replied while studying Gideon’s face. 

The baby’s chin was dimpled like Cullen’s, and his dark gray eyes would almost certainly turn warm brown in the upcoming months. Although he had very little hair, what he did have was light and wavy. Nehn’s heart twisted with pride and regret as she looked at him. He was beautiful like his father, but she couldn’t find the smallest trace of his elven heritage anywhere on him. _Will people even know he is my son?_ she wondered while his chubby hand clenched her finger. Her thoughts were interrupted by Cullen squeezing her shoulder before he began to speak.

“Are we going to talk about what happened with the anchor?” he questioned cautiously, and Nehn’s posture stiffened.

“Cullen, I ...”

“It’s just I get the feeling that wasn’t the first time you’ve had an issue with it,” he continued with a hint of accusation in his voice.

Nehn slumped slightly and put her unmarked hand on Gideon’s cheek. “It wasn’t. I knew Solas intervened when the Breach first opened and later when it reopened, but I think he might have helped keep it under control even more than I realized.”

“So what happened yesterday wasn’t a fluke?” Cullen questioned.

“It was, and it wasn’t. Anytime I get around Elvhen magic it acts up. Even if Briala hadn’t wanted us to cede the eluvians to her, I would have stopped using them. Without Solas around, the mark is unpredictable when I travel through them. Nothing like what happened yesterday but enough to concern me,” Nehn admitted.

“But there wasn’t Elvhen magic around you yesterday...”

“No, but the mark also reacts strongly to negative emotions. The pain came on so fast and strong that I panicked. Usually, I can calm myself down before the anchor gets too active. But I got caught in a vicious cycle of the birth pains making me anxious which made the mark worse which only heightened my worry. Alistair’s smite dampened the magic enough that I could regain control,” Nehn explained.

“Do you really think you might have opened a rift?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t want to _ever_ know. The mark wasn’t just getting more active, Cullen. It was spreading,” Nehn answered solemnly while holding her palm up for him to examine. “It used to be just in the center of my palm. Now it extends from the bottom of my index finger to my wrist. I can’t let it get away from me like that again.”

Cullen paled as he looked at Nehn’s hand. The mark _had_ grown - making a longer _and_ wider path across her palm. “When the breach first opened, Solas felt certain the mark would kill you if it continued to spread. I thought it was stable,” he said somberly.

“So did I,” Nehn replied. “When we get back to Skyhold, I’m going to have Charter renew our search for Solas. And with your permission, I’d like to try to reach him in the Fade myself. He taught me how to find him once although he can block me from doing so. Still he might hear why I need his help and respond.”

“You don’t find it odd that he could control the anchor’s magic?” Cullen questioned.

“He is an ancient elf. The magic isn’t foreign to him like it is us.”

“But the anchor came from the orb Corypheus was using. Wasn’t that supposed to have belonged to an elven god? It doesn’t seem logical that a god would share the workings of his or her power sources with ordinary elves,” Cullen theorized.

“Solas is most definitely _not_ ordinary. I can’t explain why he understood the foci, but he studied the Fade and ancient memories for millennia. Maybe he learned how they worked that way,” Nehn guessed.

“Or maybe he wasn’t being entirely honest about what the foci was or how he knew about it,” Cullen said pointedly.

Nehn rolled her eyes and exhaled in exasperation at Cullen’s words. “So you think that Solas was what - Fen’Harel in the flesh? That smite hit you harder than I thought.”

“I didn’t say that. I just think he knew more than he was telling us,” Cullen retorted.

“It’s Solas - of course he knew more than he told us,” Nehn exclaimed. “Still I think that he’d be willing to help me learn to control the anchor if he knew it was troubling me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And what Nehn disregards as templar paranoia and a lover's jealousy turns out to be the truth.


	146. Chapter 146

Cullen studied Nehn’s body language from across the room. Her lips were tightly pursed, and her movements were quick and jerky as she placed markers on the war table. The air hadn’t started to smell of ozone nor had the candles begun to flicker, but if Josephine kept pushing Nehn to entertain more nobles, they soon would. He considered speaking up and intervening on his wife’s behalf, but their roles in the war room were clearly delineated. He was an advisor, and she was in charge. If he stepped in as the concerned husband, her anger was likely to redirect toward him. Better to stay silent, and let Nehn speak for herself.

“Inquisitor, I simply think that we could assuage Ferelden’s fears if we invited key members of the nobility to Skyhold. Surely any concerns they have would be put aside if they were able to witness the good work we’re doing first hand,” Josephine argued.

_Here it comes..._ , Cullen thought as he saw Nehn close her eyes and take a deep breath before looking up at the ceiling and murmuring a calming incantation. _Josie, for someone that negotiates for a living, you’d think you’d recognize when you’d pushed things too far._

“Ambassador, most days I appreciate your optimism and council. _Most_ days...” Nehn said pointedly. “King Alistair could not have been more clear, however. While he sees me as a friend, he views the Inquisition as a whole as a threat to Ferelden’s security. Surely, you can understand why a monarch of a country that has endured Orleasian occupation as well as civil war in the past century would be reluctant to embrace a large non-native military presence along his borders and in his nation.”

“We have repeatedly helped Ferelden. Even now we’re rebuilding parts of Denerim, constructing houses for refugees in the Hinterlands, repairing infrastructure along the Storm Coast...” Josephine contended.

“Yes, which means that Ferelden nobles are increasingly looking to Skyhold for help instead to Denerim. Alistair is a plain-spoken man, Josie. He trusts my intentions, but he also thinks that I’m a lightning rod - a conduit for misfortune. He doesn’t want my wonderfully horrific luck to cause Ferelden to get involved in another war,” Nehn explained with a quivering voice.

_She’s staying much calmer than I expected,_ Cullen thought before noticing that Nehn’s hand was gently patting the bundle slung across her chest. _The baby.. she isn’t shouting because she doesn’t want to wake Gideon,_ he realized as a smirk crept across his face. _I’ll have to remember that the next time I need to bring up something unpleasant._

“He asks for our help and hints that he wants us to disband in the future? That doesn’t make any sense,” Josephine snapped.

“It makes perfect sense. Alistair is acting in the best interests of his country. He recognizes that Ferelden needs our aid in getting back on its feet, but he doesn’t want the Inquisition to become a crutch. I respect his honesty even though I disagree with his assessment,” Nehn said in a clipped tone. “I won’t play Orleasian style games with Ferelden nobles. Let their loyalties remain with their King. I’ve no interest in courting fickle lieges.”

“By not building more alliances, you may be sealing the Inquisition’s fate. We’ve worked too hard creating the Inquisition. Would you throw it all away?” Josephine nearly shouted.

“No, but I also won’t overstep. I’m not creating a dynasty. Our purpose was clear. We were formed to deal with the Breach. Now we’re repairing the damage caused by Corypheus and making sure that his followers are neutralized. That is enough,” Nehn said firmly.

“We could do so much more. Be so much more - a voice of reason and a force for change,” Josephine continued.

“No,” Nehn answered in an eerily calm voice while her eyes flashed with fire. She would not be swayed.

Josephine bowed her head and said nothing further, but Cullen could tell that the Ambassador disagreed with Nehn with every fiber of her being. For his part, Cullen wasn’t sure where he stood. Southern Thedas was a mess. The Inquisition could be an instrument for positive change and long term stability. It could also get caught between the competing interests of Ferelden and Orlais and be forced to choose sides. Nehn was being cautious and respectful of their allies.

“In any event, the Inquisition is under no immediate threat from Ferelden. We simply need to be aware that we may have to adapt in the future,” Nehn summarized. “If there’s no other business, then I’ll end the meeting.”

As Josephine and the spymasters filed out, Lysette entered the war room. “I’ll take Giddy if you like,” the templar turned nanny offered. Nehn nodded before carefully transferring the baby. Cullen stayed on his side of the war table with his arms crossed while fighting back a smile.

Once Lysette had left, Nehn turned to Cullen. “You were awfully quiet, Commander.”

“I had nothing to add,” Cullen said coyly as the edge of his mouth curled into a smirk.

“Or more likely knew it was smarter to keep your mouth shut,” Nehn accused.

“That too,” Cullen acknowledged with a grin. “So how does it feel to be back to work?”

“Is this work? It just seems like a lot of bickering and paper pushing,” Nehn countered.

“True enough,” Cullen chuckled as he made his way around the table. “I did enjoy being across from you again. Watching you...” he added as his voice grew husky while his hands wrapped about Nehn’s waist. “Thinking what I’d do to you if we were alone...” he whispered into Nehn’s ear.

“You mean fall asleep on top of me?” Nehn teased. The baby was a little over six weeks old, and their first attempt at intimacy since his birth concluded with Cullen snoring in the middle of foreplay.

“We’ll just have to avoid using the bed until we’re better rested,” Cullen hummed against Nehn’s neck as he moved his hands lower to her rear.

“Surely you aren’t suggesting messing up all the markers I just spent the past few hours arranging,” Nehn hinted while Cullen pressed closer to her.

“Now that you mention it...” he replied in a wickedly lascivious timbre before wiping the Orleasian half of the map clear with a swipe of his arm.

“Ferelden is untouched - ever the patriot, Commander,” Nehn noted in a throaty purr as she slid back onto the table.


	147. Chapter 147

After checking to see that Gideon was resting well, Nehn kicked off her slippers and sat next to Cullen on the sofa in their bedroom. “These parties make me miss fighting corpses and demons,” she complained.

“We’ve been at this nearly nonstop for six months. Why haven’t you put your foot down when Josie starts planning them or accepts an invitation on your behalf?” Cullen questioned as Nehn shook her hair loose from the up do she’d been wearing.

“We need coin, and it makes its way into our treasury quickly after these events. Providing aid for reconstruction and relief is vital, but it isn’t sexy,” Nehn explained while cuddling closer to Cullen, pressing her nose to his neck, and breathing in his scent.

“And parades are sexy?” Cullen asked incredulously.

“The Commander of the Inquisition in a full dress uniform certainly is,” Nehn noted while sliding her hand along Cullen’s chest.

“Here I thought we were traipsing across Thedas and hosting events at Skyhold to bolster the Inquisition’s coffers and reinforce alliances, when it was all a ruse to get me out of my armor,” Cullen teased.

“You know I’d do nearly anything to see you out of that blasted metal,” Nehn whispered against Cullen’s neck. “Even repeatedly kissing Orleasian ass it seems,” she added while sitting up and stretching her back. 

Cullen patted her shoulder to encourage her to turn around, so he could help her out of the ornate ballgown she was wearing. As he loosened the stays on her tightly corseted dress, Nehn groaned in relief.

“You have no idea how good that feels,” Nehn purred as Cullen’s hands rubbed where the bodice’s boning had left impressions on her skin.

“Nor do you,” Cullen pointed out as he kissed her neck and shoulders. “It’s like unwrapping a nameday present.”

Nehn smiled over her shoulder at Cullen before standing long enough for her gown to fall to the floor. Wasting no time, she began to unbutton Cullen’s uniform and tilted her head toward their bed. “We’ve got ten maybe fifteen minutes before he wakes up,” she said.

Cullen grinned at her assessment, and the fact that phrases like “I just fed him, and he’s sound asleep,” had replaced subtle innuendo and flirting as invitations to intimacy. He missed the languid lovemaking they had been able to enjoy before Gideon’s arrival, but he appreciated Nehn’s pragmatic approach to sex while dealing with a very hungry baby with a frighteningly low sleep requirement.

Once she had him out of uniform, Cullen let her pull him toward their bed - relishing the sight of her near naked body, wet lips, and mussed hair. Then as they reached the edge of the mattress, Nehn blushed and lowered her head slightly - nonverbally ceding control. He doubted that she even realized that she always made that gesture when they were intimate, but he loved the trust it showed she had in him. 

He had just begun to kiss her and ease her down on the bed when Gideon woke up crying. “Too slow,” he lamented while resting his head on her shoulder in frustration. “Do you want me to get him?”

“No, he’ll be hungry I’m sure. I hope our next child is less ravenous,” she said while padding over to the crib and lifting their son out.

Gideon was seven months old and already looked improbably large in Nehn’s tiny arms. He snuggled close to Nehn’s chest and sucked his hand in eager anticipation of another meal.

“He’s an absolute glutton,” Cullen laughed looking at his son’s chubby cheeks and thighs.

“He’s getting ready to grow again. You’ll see,” Nehn said as she sat cross-legged on the bed and rocked slightly as the baby latched on. Gideon contentedly suckled while staring at her with adoring honey brown eyes as his pudgy hand patted her chest. “He’s such a sweetheart - always giving his Mamae love pats,” she bragged while taking his hand and giving it a kiss.

“I think he’s just hoping the milk will come faster,” Cullen remarked which earned him a scowl from Nehn.

“No, he loves his Mamae. Don’t you, Giddy?” Nehn cooed.

“That name is going to stick if you keep using it,” Cullen warned.

“And if it does? He’s a happy baby, Cullen. It suits him,” Nehn countered.

“It isn’t very manly,” Cullen protested.

“He’s a _baby_ ,” Nehn said with exasperation.

“We shouldn’t coddle him.”

“Says the man that has put padding over practically every hard surface in Skyhold, placed gates at the top and bottom of every stairwell, and had specially constructed grates installed over every fireplace,” Nehn teased.

“Sensible precautions. We also have Garel’s safety to consider. He’s into everything now,” Cullen retorted.

“Whatever you say,” Nehn laughed. “I can’t wait to see your reaction when Gideon asks for his first sword.”

Cullen paled at Nehn’s words. “Maybe he’ll be interested in books. Scribes make very good salaries.”

“Being a scribe is such a _manly_ profession. When I think of masculinity, my mind immediately turns to ink pots and quills,” Nehn quipped.

“Fine. You have me there,” Cullen conceded. “I just want him to have a better life than I’ve had.”

“Is it really so awful?” Nehn questioned with sudden sincerity.

“Now? No, not at all... It’s just I have several years to go before the good outweighs the bad. I want more for him ... for all of them really,” Cullen explained.

“You’re thinking of Falon,” Nehn remarked.

“I never thought he’d actually join the army when he turned sixteen. Between making him work as a runner and a medic’s assistant, I thought I could bore or scare the notion of becoming a scout out of his head,” Cullen admitted.

“I had my hopes as well, but he’s old enough to decide for himself. If we were still with the clan, he would have taken vallaslin two years ago. At least we know he made a well-informed choice, and I’m glad that he’s spending some of his off hours with Sionn at the forge. It never hurts to have a fall back.”

“You’re still praying he’ll return to crafting,” Cullen said dryly.

“Holding out that hope lets me rest at night,” Nehn answered while caressing Gideon’s cheek. “Maybe being a scribe is a good idea, Giddy. You should listen to your father,” she encouraged while Cullen flopped back on the bed at her persistent use of the baby’s nickname.

“I should have gone with _Ellis_ as his first name,” he proclaimed ruefully.

“That might have made it slightly less obvious that you’d just appropriated a servant’s name,” Nehn said while arching an eyebrow at Cullen.

“You knew?” Cullen questioned sitting up suddenly.

“He introduced himself when he brought you back to me. I may have been struggling with the mark, but I wasn’t deaf.”

“And you went along with it anyway?” Cullen asked aghast.

“Why not? It was better than what I did to Asha, and it sounded good with _Rutherford_ ,” Nehn remarked with a shrug. 

Cullen grabbed the back of his neck and laughed. “And I’d been concerned that someday you’d discover my dark secret as to how Gideon got his name.”

“I know you had a long list of potentials. What made you change your mind at the last minute?” Nehn quizzed.

“I was so sure that we’d be back at Skyhold for the birth that I left my list here...” Cullen began.

“And you were so terrified in the moment that you couldn’t remember a single one of them,” Nehn finished. “Just like your wedding vows ... Do you have any idea how much I adore that about you?”

“That I fall apart under stress?” Cullen questioned cynically.

“No, that you _care_ so much. That you work hard to make everything just right. And you didn’t fall apart - not really. Yes, you got flustered, but you were there when I needed you. You always are. I couldn’t ask for more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll be heading into Trespasser territory soon... just a little more fluff here to pad our landing.


	148. Chapter 148

Cullen rubbed his forehead and ran a hand through his hair as he finished writing the last of his orders for the day. He didn’t bother to look up when he heard the door creak open because he anticipated a runner would be arriving to take them. “I’m nearly finished,” he said curtly as he scratched the last few lines.

“That’s fine. I can wait,” a high pitched voice answered.

Cullen looked up immediately. The voice belonged to someone who he didn’t care to leave waiting. “Asha, I thought you were a runner,” he chuckled at his step-daughter. _She’s growing up too fast,_ he thought as he smiled at the auburn haired mage whose cheek dimpled adorably when she returned his smile. She was nearly twelve now - long past wanting to wear tiaras or play with dolls - and already taller than her mother. 

“Go ahead with your work,” she directed while shooing her fingers at him just like her mother did when she didn’t want to be bothered. The similarities between Nehn and Asha had only grown more striking as Asha got older. _Maker, I’m going to have to beat the suitors away from her in a few years,_ he realized as a new worry entered his mind.

Cullen blotted his orders, added his seal, and then clapped his hands together expectantly. “What brings you here?” he quizzed. Asha often stopped by his office to show off a spell, complain about an instructor, bring him a snack, or twirl around in a new dress seeking his opinion. Cullen tried very hard not to show favoritism amongst his step-children, but he connected with Asha the easiest.

Asha rocked excitedly on her heels before exclaiming, “I have an idea...”

Cullen’s heart skipped a beat and his blood ran cold. Asha’s _ideas_ \- especially those that she brought to him before vetting with Nehn - were frequently brilliant and nearly always dangerous. Putting his head in his hands, Cullen begged, “Please tell me that you haven’t been brainstorming with Dagna again.”

“No, this one’s entirely my own,” she chirped as she bounced across the room to grab a chair and dragged it over to his desk. As she settled in beside him, Cullen held up a finger and said, “Before you get started, does this involve any explosives?”

Asha gave a disgusted snort before protesting, “It was _one_ henhouse. We’d even evacuated the birds first.”

“Explosives?” Cullen asked again pointedly.

“No,” Asha huffed. “No explosives although you’d think the former Knight Captain of Kirkwall would have been interested in uncovering how Anders remotely detonated the charges in the Chantry. It was all Dagna’s theory and work. Neria provided the magic. I just watched and kept the chickens calm,” Asha said defensively.

“I’ve often thought to myself that what the world needs is more mages capable of blowing up large buildings with a snap of their fingers,” Cullen remarked dryly.

“It does,” Asha agreed excitedly missing Cullen’s sarcasm. “Especially if we ever hope to stand against a Qunari invasion.”

Cullen sighed and shook his head. The attempt on her life by Qunari agents had left a deep impression on Asha. She was nearly as paranoid about Qunari as he had once been about mages.

“Asha, Southern Thedas is under no immediate threat from the Qun,” Cullen reiterated. No matter how many assurances Nehn and he gave her that she was safe, Asha was suspicious of every new servant and soldier that joined the Inquisition. _She thinks every new face is viddathari just like I was once sure every mage I met was maleficarum._

“I’m not here to talk about Qunari,” Asha said firmly. “I overheard Mamae say that Seeker Pentaghast was returning soon.”

“She is - along with Zevran. They’ve yet to meet your little brother,” Cullen answered.

“I’ve a proposal for her, but I thought you’d be the perfect person to run it by first,” Asha announced.

“A proposal for _Cassandra?_ ” Cullen echoed. _This should be good._

“Professor Kenric is set to publish his treatise on Inquisitor Ameridan soon. Mamae let me read an advance copy. I was studying the section on his appointment as Inquisitor when it hit me,” Asha gushed.

“Do you _ever_ stop reading and thinking and just relax?” Cullen said with slight exasperation. Asha took intellectual curiosity to ridiculous extremes.

“Solas said that a mage’s power is limited by her knowledge, will, and creativity,” Asha threw back. 

_If I could go the rest of my life without hearing another bit of that damnable elf’s wisdom, I’d be quite content,_ Cullen seethed inwardly before speaking. “That’s true, but you needn’t try to learn it all before you’re even a teenager.”

“I get bored,” Asha said with a shrug. “Most of the mages my age have left to study with the College of Enchanters. You sent Falon to Crestwood for training. Sylvia only visits on weekends now that they’ve moved to the valley. Mamae’s busy with the baby ...”

Cullen’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t considered how lonely it must be for Asha with Skyhold becoming increasingly empty as families and merchants built settlements in the valley closer to where the bulk of the Inquisition’s forces were situated rather than camping outside the castle walls. Skyhold was well-staffed, but few people actually _lived_ in or near the keep any more. Most arrived for their shifts, did their work, and returned home to the valley. Children especially were a rare sight within the castle walls. 

“I’m sorry, Asha. We’ve not meant to neglect you,” Cullen apologized sincerely.

“I know. I’m not complaining,” Asha answered with a smile and a perfunctory pat to Cullen’s forearm. “But I’ve got to do _something_ to stay occupied. I only have so much mana. I can’t practice spells all day. Anyway, back to my idea...”

“Go on,” Cullen said as he leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers.

“Seeker Pentaghast wants to restore the Seekers as an honorable organization that searches for Truth and protects people,” Asha began. “If you study their history, the Seekers once actively worked alongside with mages. Ameridan himself was a mage.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Cullen replied. He could already tell where Asha’s thoughts were going, but he wanted to hear how she’d explain them.

“I think she should recruit mages as well as warriors to her cause,” Asha announced emphatically. 

“There are some logistical concerns with that,” Cullen hedged. While he was aware of how Seekers were made, the process was still a secret to those outside the Order or within Nehn’s inner circle.

“I know mages can’t become real Seekers any more than we can become templars,” Asha added quietly. “Mamae wouldn’t tell me why, but she was very firm about that. Still that shouldn’t keep us from working with the Seekers. If Ameridan did it, why can’t we?”

“Perhaps you can. It wouldn’t hurt to speak with Cassandra about it, although I don’t want you thinking that you can run off to the Hunter Horns with her just yet,” Cullen responded gently. Asha was still coming to grips with the fact that she could never become a templar herself, and he didn't want to get her hopes up about the Seekers. 

Nehn and Cullen hadn’t wanted to broach the subject of why she couldn’t be a templar until she was older, but it became necessary when Lysette chose to stop taking lyrium and suffered withdrawals. Knowing the source and cost of templar powers had devastated Asha. She had cried for days upon hearing and seeing what templars endured, but she hadn’t given up on the notion that mages could act as templars of sorts - protecting themselves and others from the dangers of magic. 

Nehn was skeptical whether Asha’s vision of mage-templars could ever be implemented, but she never voiced her reservations to Asha. “Let her have her dreams. A mage without them is little better than a tranquil,” Nehn had said to Cullen when he’d asked why she stayed quiet. 

For his own part, Cullen was becoming increasingly supportive of Asha’s notion. _Someone_ had to keep mages in check. The templar order was in shambles, and Leliana had little interest in seeing them rebuild. Expanding the Seekers might be an answer to ungoverned magic, but few people had the extraordinary faith and commitment necessary to become Seekers. New mages, however, were born every day. If even a fraction of them were dedicated to making sure their fellow mages didn’t abuse their talents, they might very well be able to police themselves. Cullen reasoned they could hardly do worse than his own order had at the end.

Asha beamed when Cullen didn’t immediately scuttle her idea and threw her arms around his neck. “I knew you’d understand!” she exclaimed. “So you don’t think it’s crazy?”

“I didn’t say that,” Cullen teased. “But I do think it just might work,” he added with a wink.


	149. Chapter 149

Nehn set up watch at the main gate of Skyhold. As she alternated between chewing her fingernails, pacing nervously, and pacifying Gideon, she wondered how much longer it would take Cassandra and Zevran to arrive. “Giddy, you’re going to love Cassandra,” Nehn said as she bounced him in her arms. “She’s like a cherry cordial - hard on the outside but soft and sweet at the center. And Zevran is...” Nehn stopped chattering and squealed as she saw her friends making their way past the guards.

Fade stepping over to the couple, Nehn could barely contain her joy. “I’m so happy to see you!” she exclaimed while giving Cassandra and then Zevran a one armed hug. Before Cassandra could protest, Nehn transferred Gideon into her arms. “Giddy, meet your Auntie Cassandra,” she said to the baby as Cassandra’s face registered shock then delight at the honorific.

“I hope you don’t mind me calling you that to him,” Nehn ventured. “It’s just with everything you’ve done for Cullen and me ... you feel like family.”

Cassandra’s mouth dropped open slightly before she gave one of her rare but brilliant smiles. “I don’t mind at all,” she answered while cuddling Gideon protectively in her arms.

“So does this make me an uncle, or am I the black sheep that no one speaks about in polite company?” Zevran jested as he gave Nehn a kiss on the cheek.

Nehn laughed and replied, “You’re the favorite uncle, of course ... although I expect Varric may try to wrest the title from you when he can make time to visit.”

Cassandra grunted at the mention of Varric’s name. “I can’t believe they appointed him Viscount of Kirkwall.”

“I know - right? He’s turning respectable on us. Next thing you’ll tell me is that Zevran has stopped taking contracts. Then I’ll know for sure the world is set to end,” Nehn teased. 

“Never fear. My services are always available to the right people ... at the right price,” Zevran replied. “It just happens that I haven’t come across that combination for some time. But enough talking business. Let’s get somewhere warmer. My blood is too thin for this mountain air.”

After they had settled in at a table at the Herald’s Rest, Nehn began to unbundle Gideon, so Cassandra and Zevran could better see him. When she removed the crocheted cap he was wearing, Cassandra got a wry grin on her face as Nehn used her fingers in a vain effort to tame the mass of sweaty blond coils that had appeared.

“Cullen’s hair looked identical the first time we met,” Cassandra observed.

“Go on - say it. I know you’re thinking it. It looks like someone dumped a bowl of noodles on his head,” Nehn huffed.

“I wasn’t thinking that, but now that you mention it...” Cassandra quipped.

“I can’t do a thing with it,” Nehn lamented. “Dorian promised that he’d bring back some products from Tevinter, but gods know when he’ll be back. I tried using some of Cullen’s hair creams, but they made Giddy look like an unctuous horse trader.”

“I like the curls,” Zevran declared. “They’re roguish.”

“He is a handsome baby, Nehn,” Cassandra remarked as she smiled at Gideon who sat in the center of the table clutching a stuffed mabari in one hand and reaching toward a steak knife with the other.

Nehn scooted the knife out of his reach and said, “He’s already obsessed with blades, too. Sometimes I wonder if I had anything to do with his making.”

“I know it is early but have you sensed any magic in him?” Cassandra questioned.

“None. That doesn’t mean it won’t develop later. I had little inkling about Asha before her gifts manifested. I would be relieved if he weren’t a mage in all honesty. It is a heavy burden.”

“Quite true,” Cassandra agreed. “You said Dorian was in Tevinter?”

“He’s working with Maevaris Telani. They’ve started a political party to press for change in the Magisterium,” Nehn explained.

“Involving himself in Tevinter politics is an excellent way to get killed. Only Antivans have a larger appetite for assassination,” Zevran noted while tracing the rim of his tankard thoughtfully.

Nehn nodded. Although Dorian never mentioned them in his letters, Charter had let her know that several attempts had already been made against him and members of his Lucerni alliance. “But your Glampaw promised he’d be back - didn’t he?” she cooed to Gideon in a sing song voice to which he responded with happy babble.

“If Dorian is gone to Tevinter has he ended things with Bull?” Cassandra quizzed.

“No, they’re still together even though they rarely see each other. It wouldn’t be my preference, but it works for them I guess. Bull is in South Reach fighting demons with the Chargers right now. We got an irate letter from Mia two weeks ago. Rocky got carried away with the explosives and leveled part of the town. Cullen has sent a contingent of engineers and soldiers to help with the damage, but it won’t help our standing in Ferelden that’s for sure,” Nehn said wearily.

“So they haven’t backed down on their demands,” Cassandra intuited.

“No, Eamon has done an excellent job of whipping the Fereldan nobility into a frenzy against the Inquisition while at the same time demanding that we clean up all of Corypheus’ mess. We’re damned no matter what we do. If we go into Ferelden to provide aid or military assistance, then we’re an invading force to be feared. If we try to stay out of the fray, then we’re a heartless organization that has abandoned its purpose. South Reach may be the tipping point. If not, it’s coming soon,” Nehn shared in a low voice.

“The tipping point? How?” Cassandra quizzed.

“Cullen thinks I’m being cynical, but I can see the vultures swirling. Leliana - I mean _Divine Victoria_ can only shield us from Ferelden and Orlais for so long. With all the changes she’s making to the Chantry, she has her own survival to consider. She can’t spend all of her political capital on the Inquisition. I’d just hoped we’d have a few more years to set things right. I don’t mind the idea of disbanding the Inquisition. I would _love_ to retire. But I want to do it when the time is right - not because nobles demanded it,” Nehn said emphatically.

“Stubborn as always,” Cassandra said approvingly. “Whatever you decide, you have my support.”

“And mine - but that goes without saying. How could I ignore the will of such a beautiful lady?” Zevran flirted to lighten the mood.

Nehn, who had been teetering on the verge of tears, snorted at Zevran’s come on.

“Now there is that delightful laugh I traveled across Thedas to hear,” Zevran enthused. “Come - let’s order some more of Cabot’s dreadful ale, and make fun of how an organization as powerful as the Inquisition can’t manage to find a decent brewmaster.”


	150. Chapter 150

“You have a problem,” Sera announced as she folded her arms and scowled at Nehn. “Your head is up your arse about the nobs in Ferelden and Orlais. I can’t have fun while you’re moping around. You need an intervention. I’m thinking pranks. So here’s your choice - either we do them together, or I do them to you.”

“Is that a threat, Sera?” Nehn asked while cocking her head to the side.

“It’s an invitation - right? Or a promise. It’s all up to you, your gracious ladybits.”

Nehn didn’t respond immediately as she considered her options. Instead she dangled her legs off the edge of the roof where Sera and she had been munching on cookies and occasionally lobbing them at passersby. After several minutes, Nehn let out a groan and flopped back on the roof dramatically. “You’re right,” she reluctantly agreed. 

“I am?” Sera questioned in surprise before recovering quickly. “Of course I am. So who’s first? I’m thinking Ser Morris. That wanker won’t fill my orders anymore. One little shipment of hornets gets loose in his office, and he cuts me off.”

“Can I just lay here for a bit? The shingles are surprisingly comfortable,” Nehn said limply as she shielded her eyes from the sun with her arm.

“No, no naps. Pranks. Come on - up with you,” Sera ordered as she tugged on Nehn’s other arm.

“Just a tiny nap? It doesn’t have to be on the roof. Those cushions in your room look really inviting,” Nehn suggested.

“You’re joking - right? Naps are for wee ones like your widdle Giddy. Grown ups stay awake and do grown up things - like pranks,” Sera insisted.

“Gideon’s teething, and I haven’t had a decent night’s...” Nehn started to complain but Sera interrupted. “Blah, blah, blah... baby shite. You knew what you were in for when you made him - or did Cully Wully knock you up unawares?”

“It may have slipped my mind to pack my contraceptives when we went to deal with the Avvar,” Nehn confessed.

Sera let out a low laugh before snorting. “And you couldn’t tell him to keep it in his drawers until you found an apothecary? Horny little thing - aren’t you? Don’t try to deny it. My tent was next to yours when you were with Solas.”

“Are you going to harass me until I get up?” Nehn snipped angrily.

“That’s was the plan, but you’re making me feel guilty looking all miserable exhausted and shite.”

“So I can take a nap first?” Nehn asked excitedly.

“Sure,” Sera said a bit too eagerly.

“Wait ... If I go to sleep, you’re going to do something to me. Stick my hand in a bowl of warm water or draw a mustache on my face,” Nehn said accusingly.

“Pbbbft ... I was thinking of shaving off an eyebrow, but you with a full on Stroud would be friggin’ hilarious,” Sera cackled.

“Fine. I’m up, but you’d better watch out,” Nehn warned.

“Watch yourself, Inky. I know where you sleep. More importantly I know where you keep your knickers,” Sera retorted as she pulled Nehn to her feet and then gave her a crushing hug.

“We’ve got to be efficient. I’ve only got a two or three hours before Gideon will need me,” Nehn said as she glanced at the sun’s position.

“Ew - when do you get your boobs back? It’s just so...yuck,” Sera said as she shivered with disgust at the thought of nursing.

“Sera, that’s what they’re for,” Nehn sighed.

“For you maybe, I can come up with much better uses, bet your Cully Wully can to. No wonder he’s not keen on you having another one. He wants his fun bags back,” Sera said over her shoulder as she climbed through the tavern window.

“That isn’t why. How do you even know about his reluctance in the first place?” Nehn questioned with annoyance.

“It’s obvious ... innit it? You always talking about how sweet Giddy is and how the next one would be, too. Then him saying he’s thankful for what he has. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s done making babies. I would be, too, if I had to share your tits. I mean you finally have some now - and he only gets part time access. So unfair..”

Nehn smacked her forehead and didn’t even try to argue with Sera’s logic. She’d have to divulge much more of her sex life than she wished to even begin to address Sera’s incorrect assumptions. “Let’s just say that isn’t the reason and leave it at that,” Nehn said sharply.

“Touched a nerve. Didn’t mean to,” Sera said apologetically which took Nehn aback. Two years ago the shaggy haired elf would have never said she was sorry for any reason. _Is Sera actually maturing?_ Nehn pondered but then cast that notion aside when she remembered they were heading off to the quartermaster’s office to put beetles in his desk drawers. 

A few hours later, Nehn’s sides were aching from laughing, and she had a gigantic bruise on her shin where she had banged her leg on the base of a statue of Andraste while fleeing Grand Enchanter Fiona’s bedroom after short sheeting her bed. She felt happier and lighter than she had in ages as she hugged Sera goodbye and then climbed the stairs to her quarters. Her only real concern was for Cullen’s reaction when he discovered that she’d changed the locks to his office while he watched the baby. _Just make sure he has a good time finding the new key, and it’ll be fine,_ she thought as she slid Cullen’s copy of the key into her bodice and planned his reward for locating it.

Nehn found their bedroom was unexpectedly quiet when she reached the last set of stairs. From how distended her breasts felt, she had expected to hear Gideon wailing in hunger. _Maybe they went out to get some air,_ Nehn thought as she climbed over the gate Cullen had installed at the top of the stairs. _Or wore themselves out,_ she realized as she saw a shirtless Cullen splayed on the couch with Gideon resting on his chest - both sound asleep.

She smiled as she guessed the events of the past few hours based on what she saw in the room. _Spent a good deal of the time playing,_ she thought as she studied a quilt in the middle of the floor which was littered with stuffed animals and wooden blocks. While most of the toys were scattered willy nilly, there was an impressive fortress constructed at one corner of the blanket with stuffed mabari posted as sentries at its entrance and stationed along its battlements. There were also a few stuffed lions arrayed around the castle walls with their bodies twisted at odd angles. Nehn snickered at Cullen’s display of nationalistic pride. _Those Orleasian lions never stood a chance when they took on Fereldan mabari._

_When that got old, Giddy must have gotten fussy. Cullen tried to soothe him and got spit up on instead,_ Nehn determined as she saw a stained linen shirt laying on the floor next to a rocking chair. _Then Giddy either calmed down or wore himself out crying before falling asleep. And Papa decided to join him for a nap,_ Nehn thought as she stared lovingly at her sleeping boys before Cullen’s eyes fluttered open.

He smiled a sleepy grin and whispered, “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too,” Nehn answered as she leaned closer. Cullen made a contented sound as Nehn’s lips met his in a brief, but sweet kiss. 

“Remember the first time you woke me here?” he asked as she carefully lifted Gideon off his chest and transferred the baby to his crib.

“I do. I’d used up the last of my resolve not making love to you the night before when I saw you stretched out on this couch nearly naked and holding my opened puzzle box,” Nehn flirted.

“And I’d used all of mine not taking you the second I caught sight of the red lace panties you were wearing,” Cullen answered as he pulled Nehn down on top of him before crashing his lips against hers. In no time, they were undressing each other in a rush to have sex before the baby interrupted them. 

As Cullen unlaced Nehn’s bodice, he looked confused when a key tumbled out. “Hold on to that for later. You’ll need it,” Nehn advised as she shimmied out of her dress.

Cullen shook his head. He’d expected that Nehn and Sera would get into mischief when he encouraged Nehn to spend the morning with her friend. He’d also guessed that he might be a target of one of their exploits, but he honestly didn’t care. His love was smiling again - that’s what mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken me a few days to update. I've been busy building junk fences and harvesting tato plants in Fallout 4.


	151. Chapter 151

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're trespassing now. Watch for spoilers and slightly altered canon. :)

Nehn stood alone on the Winter Palace balcony where Cullen and she had shared their first kiss and mentally prepared to sit before the Exalted Council the next day. Having spent much of the past year dreading when Ferelden and Orlais’ concerns about the Inquisition would come to a head, she was oddly calm once it finally happened. One way or another the Inquisition’s fate would be decided, and she wouldn’t have to weigh every word and choice against how they might be viewed by the nations surrounding Skyhold. For someone accustomed to speaking her mind and acting on instinct, Nehn had been more drained by those considerations than the fighting she had led against the Elder One. 

Leaning heavily on the balcony railing, Nehn stared at her marked hand. Since Corypheus’ defeat and Solas’ disappearance, the anchor’s magic had grown more active and unpredictable. The mark’s green glow now ran from the tip of her index finger down to her wrist when it had once been contained in the center of her palm. The anchor had also grown increasingly painful although she did her best to disguise that from her friends and family - especially Cullen. He was suspicious of magic enough on his own without adding that worry. 

Solas had been able to dampen the mark, and Nehn held out hope that her agents might be able to locate him or that he might respond to her calls for assistance in the Fade. Searching for him in dreams had become a nightly ritual. The irony of falling asleep in Cullen’s arms while thinking about Solas wasn’t lost on her, but she had to keep trying. No other mage, templar, or arcanist had been able to demonstrate more than fleeting control of the mark’s unknown magic. At times, she felt as if she were incredibly close to connecting with Solas. She would sense his aura in the Fade before becoming overwhelmed by feelings of sorrow and regret. Those nights she would awaken sobbing feeling something elves described as _lathbora viran_ \- a soul-crushing sense of loss for what once was.

Twirling the wedding band that she wore on the index finger of her left hand, Nehn considered whether it would be best to simply walk in the Council meeting and announce a gradual disbanding of the Inquisition. She was exhausted and wanted to spend more time with her family. Hadn’t she earned a peaceful retirement? Hadn’t the Inquisition realized its primary objectives? The stubborn Dalish part of her rebelled at that idea, however. Humans in Thedas had a nasty history of using and then discarding elves - Shartan, Ameridan, Tabris, Briala to name a few. She didn’t want to add herself to that list and reinforce the notion that her people were disposable allies. 

While Josephine vehemently argued for the Inquisition’s continued existence as a political and economic force, Leliana had quietly told Nehn that she thought it was time for them to disband. Like Nehn, Cullen was ambivalent. With nearly all of the Red Templars killed and only small pockets of Venatori resistance remaining, the Inquisition’s forces were concentrating primarily on reconstruction and relief efforts in Ferelden and Orlais. Cullen was proud of the job his soldiers were doing, but he was increasingly frustrated by roadblocks to recovery erected by posturing nobles more concerned with their status than the wellbeing of their lieges. 

Irrespective of their own opinions, every one of her advisors - past and present- had stated unequivocally that they would follow Nehn’s lead. _Yet another choice they foist on me,_ she thought with some bitterness. She’d never asked to head the Inquisition or have her conscience burdened by making choices that would affect an entire continent. She sighed deeply and then chided herself for indulging in self pity. _Worry about it later,_ she advised herself as she pushed back from the railing. 

One very bright spot of the Exalted Council was that her inner circle had promised to attend to provide support and testimony. Nehn squealed with delight when she spotted the last of her companions to arrive as she walked toward her quarters. Varric and Fenris were lounging beside a large fountain while an agitated looking bureaucrat peppered Varric with requests to answer his correspondence.

Fenris noticed Nehn first and greeted her with a disgusted sounding, “Mage,” before breaking into a smirk that betrayed how happy he was to see her. Varric didn’t even try to hide how glad he was to be reunited with Nehn. After hugging her warmly, he announced that as Viscount of Kirkwall he had given her both a title and a home in his city. _Just in case you ever get tired of winters in the Frostbacks,_ he said with a wink as he handed Nehn the keys to the mansion over the bureaucrat’s vehement protests about protocol.

Nehn didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but she was suspicious of Varric’s presents. Clearly he wanted her to have a place to call home just in case the Council went poorly. She was concerned, though, about how he had acquired the house and what might have happened there in the past. From his stories about Hawke, it seemed that nearly every house in Hightown had been host to blood mages, slavers, or gangs

Noticing the ambivalent look on Nehn’s face as she stared at the key he had given her, Varric guessed her hold up. “This home is completely new - built near where the old Chantry stood. The new Chantry is being constructed in Lowtown. Divine Victoria and I agreed that the sisters would have a harder time ignoring the poor if they lived among them. Besides it would be wasteful to use such prime real estate for a building that sits empty most days.”

“You can’t hide gold from a dwarf,” Nehn laughed at Varric branching out into real estate.

“I’ve funded half of Kirkwall’s reconstruction selling lots to nobles desperate to get their hands on consecrated ground,” Varric bragged.

“Consecrated ground?” Nehn questioned.

“Sure. It has to be if the Chantry was there once - right? Look - with the new job and all, I won’t hardly ever get to leave Kirkwall. Just consider this my way of making certain that you come by and visit. And if he gives you any resistance, remind Curly that Kirkwall is under new management. He can’t hold a grudge against the city forever.”

“I will, Varric. Thank you,” Nehn said as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Both of you need to meet Gideon as soon as he gets up from his nap.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Varric smiled while patting Nehn on the back. “Bianca and I have been thinking - when do you think he’ll be old enough for his own crossbow?”


	152. Chapter 152

Zevran was using a dagger to clean beneath his nails while listening intently as Nehn raged to Cassandra about the Ferelden delegation’s demands that the Inquisition disband. When the dirt was gone and he’d heard enough, he twirled the knife lazily before sheathing it in his boot.

“Forgive me. I’m confused by something. You do not want to _disband_ the Inquisition, yet you speak of retiring in the near future. Do you think your soldiers and spies would stay if they didn’t have your glowing hand and perfect rear to inspire them?” he asked Nehn while giving her ass an appreciative once over.

Cassandra made a disgusted noise at the mention of Nehn’s bum, but then smiled at the point her lover was making. The Inquisition’s people were loyal to Nehn. Her departure would mean the end of the organization.

“I know that, Zev,” Nehn answered as she plopped down beside him on the steps where he’d been reclining. “The difference is that if I retire it would be by _my_ choice not because I was bullied into leaving by a bunch of ingrates.”

“The outcome is the same - no? If I use a dagger or poison, it doesn’t change whether someone was assassinated. I can understand the desire to feel in control of such things. It is disappointing to have a mark meet an unexpected end before I can execute my plan for them. Still I collect the coin either way,” Zevran said with a shrug.

“So you’re saying that I shouldn’t fight it? That I should just agree to their demands?” Nehn asked while furrowing her brow. 

“No, I am reminding you that you will win either way.”

*************************

Gideon, who had turned one a few days before the Exalted Council began, had yet to walk alone. He loved pulling up on the fountains at Halamshiral and would make endless circles around them clutching the edge, but the second he let go of the marble, he would plop down on his bottom and crawl away.

“I think he’s risk averse like his father,” Nehn said as she watched Cullen trying to coax Gideon away from one of the fountains and into his waiting arms.

“I certainly chose the wrong profession if that is the case,” Cullen chuckled as he kneeled down and held up one of Gideon’s favorite toys just out of his son’s reach. “Come on, boy. Come on. Get it.”

“He’s a child - not a dog, Cullen,” Nehn teased.

“Garel was already running at the same age. Is something wrong with him?” Cullen fretted, and Nehn laughed.

“He’s fine, Cullen. And once they start walking, they don’t stop. I don’t mind him taking his time,” Nehn answered as she bent down and offered a hand to Gideon. He grabbed one of her fingers and toddled away from the fountain. Nehn straightened slowly and then allowed Giddy to drag her around the courtyard as he explored every niche. He was barely holding her hand, and her heart actually ached at the idea that he would some day let go. _Don’t be in a rush to leave me, da’len._

Cullen sat down on the edge of a fountain and watched his wife and child as Gideon bumbled about the garden never letting loose of his mother’s hand. In moments like these, Cullen felt extraordinarily blessed and slightly guilty. He hadn’t always made the right choices, but the Maker had blessed him immeasurably anyway. A wife, a son, stepchildren ... he didn’t deserve to this life, but he was grateful for it. 

Nehn was fiercely dedicated to being a mother. She refused to hire a wet nurse, sewed nearly all of Gideon’s clothes, bathed and put him to bed nightly, and played with him in every moment that she could steal away from the Inquisition. Somehow she managed to do that while also taking over the majority of Asha’s magical education, providing gentle guidance to Falon, and smothering Garel and Sylvia with affection whenever they visited Skyhold. 

Even with four children and a grandchild, Nehn wanted another baby, but Cullen couldn’t justify the risk - not after what happened when she was in labor. Although she tried to hide it, Cullen knew that Nehn was having increasing difficulty controlling the anchor’s magic. She pretended everything was fine, but he saw her wince in pain when she thought no one was looking. He heard her speaking in her sleep begging Solas to help her. He also saw how the eerie green magic had spread down to her wrist and how she would have to remove her wedding ring on days when the anchor was active. He felt as if they were on borrowed time as it was. There was no need to do anything that might speed up the clock.

The stress of appearing before the Exalted Council wasn’t helping Nehn with the anchor. It seemed tied to her emotions and flared when her temper did. Between the smug Orleasian and paranoid Ferelden delegates, she had endured plenty of criticism and jibes. If she were able to tell them off, then she wouldn’t have so much anger and frustration stuck inside her fueling the swirling green magic in her palm. She couldn’t rail against them, however, as she needed to stay calm and confident before her detractors if she hoped to have a good outcome at the Council. 

It was a no win situation, but Cullen and her inner circle were working together to keep Nehn as happy and distracted as possible when the meetings weren’t in session. Leliana brought her pet nugs for Nehn and Gideon to enjoy. Josephine took Nehn and Asha to an Orleasian opera. That experience left Nehn temporarily deafened and utterly enthralled in its wake. Krem and the Chargers enlisted her aid in planning a surprise party for Iron Bull’s birthday. Sera drug her along on pranks. Cole gave Nehn cookies and frequent hugs. Varric set up regular games of Wicked Grace which Cullen attended because it made Nehn smile to watch him lose. Fenris scouted local restaurants and brought back desserts he thought she’d like. Cassandra kept Nehn stocked with smutty novels while Zevran regaled her with stories of his exploits and teased her with innuendo. Even Vivienne helped out - taking Nehn out for a day of pampering along with Dorian. 

Their plan had worked well so far. Nehn would emerge from the sessions fuming with her hand glowing angrily. Her friends would intervene - taking her mind off the Council and dissipating the intense emotions that were powering the unstable magic in her palm. Cullen also had Dagna, Fiona, and Knight Captain Briony all searching for ways to dampen the mark’s magic while the Inquisition’s spies tried to find Solas. _Solas,_ Cullen’s jaw clenched as he thought of the elven mage. _If I find out that you have willfully ignored Nehn, I swear to the Maker I’ll cram your wolf’s jaw amulet down your throat._

“You’re growling,” Nehn commented, and Cullen startled.

“Sorry ... just frustrated,” Cullen replied as Nehn picked up Gideon and sat down beside Cullen.

“Anything I can do to help?” Nehn offered as Cullen took Gideon from her arms.

“No, it will all be fine,” Cullen prayed.


	153. Chapter 153

Nehn sat placidly in front of the Exalted Council while Arl Teagan bloviated about the Inquisition’s threats to Ferelden’s freedom and security. She had become inured to his insults and had developed a game of sorts to keep her mind occupied during the nearly endless council sessions. The “game” involved keeping score for every time he compared the Inquisition to the Wardens, demanded its immediate disbanding, or reminded her that Corypheus was long dead. Nehn noted Teagan’s diatribe was particularly _pointed_ that morning and nearly snickered at her mental pun while he questioned her fitness to lead. Josie noticed that Nehn wasn’t showing appropriate affront to his remarks and elbowed her harshly in the ribs.

Nehn scowled at Josephine who redirected her ire toward the arl with a nod toward the dais. Nehn dutifully looked aggravated at Teagan while she mentally replayed Zevran’s description of the demise of the Arl’s attractiveness. The rogue had sworn that a decade earlier Teagan had been one of the most handsome men in Ferelden and pondered whether some of the mages that had taken residence in Redcliffe had hexed him. “I never believed witches could turn people into toads until I saw what happened to the Arl,” Zevran had quipped with a sly grin. 

She would have attributed Zevran’s opinion to libidinous inflation of past encounters, but Varric verified that Hawke’s crew had met Teagan in Kirkwall and that they nearly had to throw cold water on Isabela after the encounter. Nehn again had to fight the urge to laugh at the images her mind conjured then became aggravated wondering if Isabela had worked off some of her sexual frustration with Cullen. Sensing the mark awakening to her jealousy, she turned her thoughts to other matters - like how in the world Leliana could agree to wear such an unflattering outfit.

When a page appeared saying Nehn was urgently needed, she assumed Gideon was inconsolable or had gotten hurt. Concerned for her son, she left the meeting quickly with minimal apologies and no explanation. Instead of finding an upset toddler, she was confronted with the dead body of a Qunari soldier. While she examined the man’s heavily armored body, her throat tightened as she remembered a warning Bull had given her years earlier. _“If you ever see a member of the Beresaad wearing armor - run. It’s an invasion.”_ Her mind swirled with questions. How did the soldier get into the palace? Why was he there? Who killed him? And most importantly considering the attacks against them a few years earlier - were her children safe?

Her spymasters had already anticipated and addressed her biggest concern. Scout Harding calmly told Nehn that the Chargers and Lysette had taken Asha and Gideon to the safe house Cullen had insisted they have ready just in case. _And I thought my husband was being paranoid when he made the suggestion..._ Harding also reported that warnings were sent to Sylvia and Sionn’s village in the Frostbacks. “What about Falon?” Nehn pressed.

“I chose to stay here,” Falon answered while stepping out of the shadows. Nehn gasped and then gave him a stern glare. He was getting much too good at stealth. She should have felt his aura, but she had been too absorbed in the crime scene to notice his distinct feel. 

“Falon Souveri...” Nehn began to chide when Harding interjected.

“Falon tracked the blood trail the Qunari left.” Gesticulating toward the corpse, Harding kept talking, “He entered the palace through an eluvian. When we discovered that, we decided to get you.”

“Well, shit...” Nehn replied. Eluvians could lead literally anywhere, and the ancient magics within them made her mark unpredictable. Still she and the elven members of her inner circle would be the best choice to follow up on anything involving the ancient mirrors.

“I took the liberty of informing Zevran, Fenris, and Sera that they would likely be needed and had your armor and favorite staff brought here,” Harding added sheepishly. 

“Well, shit...” Nehn reiterated. She certainly didn’t think she’d be reuniting the Broody Crew when she woke up that morning. She also didn’t like the idea of moving though eluvians without Solas around, but there truly wasn’t anyone at the Winter Palace with enough familiarity with the eluvian’s odd magic to lead a successful expedition through one other than herself.

Undeterred by Nehn’s lack of enthusiasm, Harding continued, “Somehow Cassandra found out...”

“Zevran,” Falon coughed into his hand, and Nehn smirked at her son’s observation.

“And she would like to accompany you even though humans find the eluvian environment unsettling,” Harding went on ignoring Falon’s interruption.

“As would we,” a mellifluous voice said from the doorway as Dorian and Iron Bull walked into the room. “Surely, my best friend wasn’t thinking of taking off on an adventure without me...”

“How did you know?” Harding asked with obvious perturbation.

“Ben Hassrath ... remember?” Bull answered with a wink toward the red haired dwarf. “Also it’s my boys that you have guarding the Boss’s kids. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice them leaving?”

“So who doesn’t know?” Harding said while crossing her arms in annoyance.

“We haven’t told ma’am. Thought we’d leave that up to the Boss,” Bull answered, and Nehn was once again reminded of how much her inner circle looked out for her.

“Let’s leave her out of it for now. My nerves are already shot,” Nehn sighed. “What about Varric and Cole?”

“The _Viscount_ is distracting the Council with a long winded, undoubtedly exaggerated, and utterly fascinating fabrication about your exploits of course,” Dorian chimed in. “And Cole is...” 

“Here to help,” Cole reported as he appeared out of thin air.

“Do rogues always require dramatic entrances?” Nehn groused looking between a self-satisfied Falon and a confused Cole.

“I don’t think so,” Cole said hesitantly. 

Nehn put her head in her hands and rubbed her temples as she considered how to handle the “adventure” as Dorian called it. Once she had an action plan, she looked up and announced, “Here’s what we’re going to do...”

**************************

Later that night as Gideon nursed noisily in her arms, Nehn told Cullen what she had found when her team traveled through the eluvian. The descriptions of the Qunari warriors, elven spirit sentinels, and Fen Harel’s refuge came easily for her as she patted Gideon lovingly with a heavily bandaged left hand. What wasn’t easy to explain was how much the anchor had reacted to the magics contained in the old elven fortress or how she had started to suspect the orb and by extension her mark’s magic had belonged to the elven trickster god. Even more difficult to voice was her suspicion that Solas was much, much more than just an ancient elf.

Cullen knew she was struggling with something more than just having endured a very long day with a great deal of fighting, but he listened attentively as Nehn told her story. She’d put words to her fears soon enough.

Nehn paused and gnawed on her nails as she tried to think how to describe the bizarre conclusion she had reached in such a way as to not seem completely unhinged. “When we’d reach the entrances to the refuge, the mark would start to glow and the mosaics of Fen’Harel would tell us about his campaign to free slaves from the Evanuris.”

“I thought Fen’Harel was the bad god. The one you pray never catches a clan’s scent...” Cullen commented with a furrowed brow.

“So did I. That’s what I’ve always been told. That Fen’Harel tricked our gods, stole our immortality... instead the story I saw in the mosaic tiles was entirely different. Fen’Harel was a rebel. He declared that the Evanuris weren’t truly gods - just very powerful mages or leaders.”

“That sounds much like what Solas told you,” Cullen remarked.

“Funny you should say that,” Nehn answered and then bit her lip as she struggled to put words to what her instincts told her was the Truth. “Everything Solas said about the gods and Elvhen slavery ... it was identical to what I saw in the tile mosaics.”

“Do you think he visited the sanctuary in his travels?” Cullen quizzed.

Nehn sighed and stared at Gideon who had wrapped a chubby hand around the charms she wore around her neck. Her mind went back to earlier that day as she stood inside the central building of Fen’Harel’s refuge. There had been a mural - painted in a style akin to the frescoes Solas had created at Skyhold - that had made her doubt everything she once believed about the Dread Wolf, Solas, and herself. She didn’t want to say what she was thinking. It was too much to think that she had ...

Glancing up from her son’s honey brown eyes to those of his father, Nehn took a deep breath and reminded herself that Cullen would never abandon her even if what she feared was true. “There was a mural ,” she started in a whisper as her eyes stayed fixed on Cullen’s. “It showed the Dread Wolf using a spell to remove vallaslin.” Nehn paused to judge Cullen’s reaction. He understood what she was implying, but he wanted her to say it - knew that she needed to put it into words.

“There’s a reason Solas knew about the anchor’s magic, Cullen. Why he could describe the orb Corypheus used before anyone had seen it.” _And why I sometimes see a white wolf at the edge of my dreams when I call to him in the Fade._ “Solas is the Dread Wolf. The orb was his. I don't know how the Qunari are linked to him or how the Elder One ended up with his foci, but he has a lot of explaining to do when we find him."


	154. Chapter 154

The weeks after the Qunari’s body had been discovered at Halamshiral were a blur to Nehn. Her team had uncovered and thwarted a Qunari plot to unleash explosives at the Exalted Council and throughout nobles houses in Thedas, but that small victory had come at great cost. The investigation forced her to travel through multiple eluvians and come in close contact with old magics. As a result, the anchor was violently unpredictable and excruciatingly painful. The Qunari threat of a large scale invasion still remained, and Nehn needed to act quickly if she was to stand a chance of stopping it.

Nehn was unsure her advisors grasped her situation as she listened to them lash out at one another in response to Ferelden and Orlais uniting to condemn the Inquisition’s handling of the Qunari menace. Even Cullen seemed ignorant of the gravity of her condition. As Nehn’s frustration built, so did the pain in her hand until she finally broke. She lashed out angrily at how she had spent the last three years trying to fix the world’s problems only to have everything fall apart while her own hand tried to kill her.

“I’ve got to get through the Darvaraad. I don’t know how much time I have left,” Nehn said emphatically as she removed her necklace and wedding ring before placing them inside the puzzle box Garel had given to her years before. When she handed the box to Cullen, she fought to keep from crying as realization crossed his face. She didn’t expect to make it back. Taking the box and pulling her into an embrace, Cullen whispered, “You will return to me.” 

“Is that an order?” Nehn responded trying to be playful even though her eyes were clouded with tears.

Cullen ignored her weak jest and pressed his forehead to hers. “You must come back. I can’t...” he breathed as he held her tightly.

“I’ll try,” Nehn promised.

Chastened by Nehn’s display and Cullen’s grief, Leliana and Josephine apologized for their spat and fell over themselves trying to be accommodating. Nehn didn’t care how they felt or what they thought. She had likely kissed her children goodbye for the last time. The mark had already spread halfway up her forearm leaving her hand a ravaged mess. Another trip through eluvians into places laced with Elvhen magic would almost certainly cause her death, but she had no choice - just like at Haven. She hoped her children would understand her sacrifice and could one day forgive her for it.

“Perhaps you’ll find a way,” Cullen said echoing words he’d used at Haven as he let her go. Nehn nodded as she took in his scent and the warmth from him eyes for what she expected to be the last time. Then unable to express her emotions in the Common Tongue, she turned to elven. “Vir lath vir suledin bellanaris.” _Our love will endure forever._ It was the vow she made on their wedding day, the one engraved on his wedding ring, and the only thing in this world of which she was absolutely certain.

“Forever,” Cullen answered before stepping into his role as Commander while Nehn slipped out the door. She smiled as she heard him clearing his throat and issuing orders. He was strong. He would endure. And one day, they would be reunited.

*****************************  
Nehn could barely stand after defeating a saarebas whose powers had been artificially augmented by consuming massive amounts of lyrium. She had taken down countless members of the antaam before that battle and felt certain that she had derailed a planned Qunari invasion. Still she had to keep going. Before disappearing through an eluvian, the Viddasala - the Qunari agent who had spearheaded the Qunari effort to create a power vacuum in Southern Thedas- had hinted that she had found Solas and planned to kill him.

_I have to find him first,_ Nehn thought as she summoned her will to continue. _He’s the only person that could control this magic, and save my life. One more mirror, Nehn._

Bull put a strong arm around her waist and helped her move toward the mirror glistening with magic. “Listen, Boss. You don’t have to do this. Let Dorian, Cole, and me find him. You could rest ... get stronger.”

Rest sounded so wonderful to Nehn, but she knew she had to keep moving. It was just like when she was caught in the blizzard after Haven’s downfall. If she stopped pushing, it would be over. Picturing her children, Nehn shook her head. “There’s only forward, Bull. Promise you’ll make sure they know how hard I fought to get back,” she gasped in between convulsive spasms of pain brought on by the anchor’s uncontrolled magic.

“Tell them yourself,” Bull ordered sharply as they came just short of the eluvian before adding “We’re right behind you, Boss,” in a gentler tone.

Nehn nodded and leaned heavily on her staff before taking a deep breath and stepping through the eluvian. She wasn’t surprised when it turned black behind her. Somehow she knew she would face this alone. Maybe it was better that way. Cassandra had been injured when the anchor flared during the last battle. The Seeker's wounds weren’t life threatening, but Nehn understood they showed how dangerous the mark’s magic had grown.

Nehn startled when she realized she was surrounded by dozens of Qunari warriors that had been turned to stone. From the way their bodies were contorted, Nehn surmised that they hadn’t had a moment to react before being made into statues. Even though she had never seen him use such a spell, Nehn knew it was Solas that had killed them. _Just like those mages in the Exalted Plains... His anger consumed them._

Weaving her way between the stone warriors, Nehn heard a voice she’d know in an instant. Solas was speaking to the Viddasala in Qunlat. _I guess that’s just one more thing he picked up in the Fade._ Nehn nearly laughed out loud considering all the successful deflections Solas had made using that excuse. _Gods, I was a complete idiot for not realizing sooner._

Nehn had nearly reached Solas and the Viddasala when he warned the Qunari not to trouble him further and turned his back to her. The Qunari lifted her spear to strike and was instantaneously turned to stone. Solas hadn’t even needed to make eye contact or gesticulate to cast the spell. He had barely even broken his regal stride as he moved closer to a large eluvian in front of him.

_He’s going to get away,_ Nehn panicked. Too weak to shout, she croaked, “Fen’Harel!” as she stumbled toward him.

Solas stopped short. His Elvhen armor glinted in the sunlight as he slowly faced Nehn before quipping, “Well done.”

_And to think I would have once been overjoyed to hear his praise._ Nehn marveled as the pain from the anchor drove her to her knees. “Please...” she begged in a hoarse whisper

He made a small gesture with his hands while staring at her with what seemed to be a mixture of pity, pride, and fascination. The pain stopped, and the swirling mass of magic that was eating away at her arm dissipated into a pale green glow.

“There. That should give us some more time. I expect you have questions,” he said in a tone that was warm and collegial - as if she was merely a student brushing up on her studies rather than a woman pleading for her life.

Freed from pain, Nehn found her voice and answered angrily as she stood straight with her chin held high, “Damn right I do.”


	155. Chapter 155

Solas cracked a thin smile at Nehn’s moxie when she drew herself up to her full (yet insubstantial) height as she readied her questions for him. Two years had passed, but she was still the same person - defiant, quick-witted, and brave. Whether his life’s greatest mistake was creating the Veil or losing Nehn was debatable. Seeing her in person - her spirit unbowed although her body was battered - made him lean toward the latter. She was remarkable.

He knew it was self-indulgent to bring up their relationship given what she had gone through to reach him and what she had recently discovered about his identity, but he couldn’t resist. Looking at her slyly, he said in a tone that he hoped she would find amusing if not flirtatious, “And what was the old saying -may the Dread Wolf take you?”

The tears that came to her eyes as she replied, “And so he did,” told Solas that he had yet again misjudged what her reaction would be. She was frustratingly unpredictable, and he felt immediately defensive. “I did not. I would not lay with you under false pretenses,” he proclaimed.

“What does that even mean, Solas? Or would you prefer Fen’Harel?” Nehn snarled as she held her hands up in front of her to keep him from drawing closer.

Solas exhaled slowly. _You knew this would not be an easy conversation._ “I was Solas first. _Fen’Harel_ came later... An insult I took as a badge of pride. The _Dread Wolf_ inspired hope in my friends and fear in my enemies... Not unlike _Inquisitor_ I suppose. As for your other question... what we had was real. There was no artifice or guise in what I felt.” _In what I still feel..._

Nehn’s mouth dropped open at Solas’ words. Was he really that delusional? Did he really think that just because he _felt_ something for her that it made his betrayal moot? He had lied about his identity, his reason for joining the Inquisition, the source of the mark’s magic... _My hair would be completely gray by the time I enumerated all his deceptions, but what we had was “real”?_ Nehn was too angry to be eloquent, and so she made her response clear. “Bullshit,” she spat.

“You’ve earned your anger,” Solas replied calmly which only made Nehn more furious.

“When exactly did I _earn_ it, Solas? When I took off Garel’s wedding ring? When I said I loved you? Or maybe it was when I had your cock in my mouth? You know what - forget it. That’s in the past and best left there,” Nehn exclaimed as she threw up her arms and then pressed her hands to her temples. _I will not let him see me cry._ Then remembering the sending crystal Dorian had given her was still in her pocket, Nehn pressed the stone and prayed that her friends might hear what was being said. _I may not live to tell them. Please let this work._

“Help me make sense of this ... the Evanuris, the fall of the elven empire, and your part in it all. The Dalish have our stories, but I know they are wrong,” she pleaded after reining in her emotions. Solas patiently explained how the Creators rose to prominence, became tyrants, and eventually threatened the world itself with their desire for power. He had acted against the Evanuris - first freeing any slaves that would join his cause and then eventually creating the Veil to banish them when they tried to kill Mythal. 

His attempt to save the Elvhen from their false gods had backfired horribly. The Veil successfully imprisoned the Creators, but it also destroyed elven immortality and ripped apart their empire’s greatest wonders when it sundered the Fade from the waking world.

“You doomed your people trying to save them,” Nehn said quietly as she grasped the source of the immense grief she felt when she tried to reach Solas in the Fade. That was the burden he carried. She couldn’t imagine the guilt.

“So you must understand why I have to do everything I can to see my people restored,” Solas replied with a pained expression.

“Let me help you. You shouldn’t face this alone,” Nehn answered instinctively. 

Solas turned away from Nehn and faced the horizon, “I lay in dark and dreaming sleep while countless wars and ages passed. I woke still weak a year before I joined you. My people fell for what I did to strike the Evanuris down, but still some hope remains for restoration.” Turning back to face Nehn, he declared firmly, “I will save the elven people, even if it means this world must die.”

Nehn gazed in horror at the determination etched on Solas’ face. He meant what he said. He would willfully destroy everything and everyone that she loved in the hope that he might bring back what once was. “Saving the Elvhen - great idea, love it,” Nehn chirped sarcastically. “Ending this world? Not so much. Any chance I can get you to see a different - less genocidal solution?”

Solas chuckled in spite of himself. He had declared his intentions, and she came back at him with a joke rather than fear. _Remarkable._ Shaking his head sadly, he answered her honestly. “Sometimes only terrible choices remain. I am not a monster. I take no joy in this. But the return of my people means the end of yours.”

“Here’s a pro-tip - one leader to another... If you have to preface a plan with, _I’m not a monster..._ , you might want to head back to the drawing board. Seriously, Solas. Do you hear yourself? You talk about the Evanuris having been power mad, and yet you would ravage an entire world. A world that YOU created? Don’t you feel some responsibility to us? For someone adamant about not being a god, you sure are acting like one,” Nehn raged.

Solas felt angered and chastened by her words. “You don’t understand,” he sighed. “You have always shown a thoughtfulness that I’ve respected. In trying to help you understand, it would be far too easy to tell you too much. Know that I see no other option.”

“There are always other options, Solas. Other ways. Wasn’t it you who always touted that we are only limited by our creativity and desire?” she argued drawing close enough to him that their bodies nearly touched as she jutted her chin out boldly. She had nothing to lose in speaking her mind, and he needed to hear the truth. “Let me be blunt ... your plans have a way of failing brilliantly, Solas. There’s always some unforeseen consequence to them. Maybe just once you can put Pride aside in favor of Humility. Accept help. Have hope,” she ended her words in a near whisper as she put her hand to his chest. “Please.”

Solas stared at the tiny woman in front of him. She was dying. The mark was killing her, yet she hadn’t stopped fighting, still had hope for him and the world. _Wisdom warned me I would have to choose between love and duty..._ “You have an indomitable spirit. I once thought I should like to see it mastered, but that would be a tragedy,” he said as he brushed a hair from her forehead and then stepped back while he hardened his face and heart. 

“I will not be swayed from my duty, Inquisitor. You should be more concerned about your Inquisition. You have prevented an invasion of Qunari forces. With luck, they should return their focus to Tevinter. That should grant you a few years peace.”

“Before you kill us, you mean,” Nehn snipped not bothering to mince her words. “Is helping us stop the Qunari your equivalent of giving a sick animal a good meal and favorite toy before putting him down? Is it not murder if you’re humane before hand?”

Solas swallowed hard and weighed his words. Getting drawn into an argument would serve no purpose. His mind was made up, and nothing Nehn could say could make him hate himself more than he already did. Yet he felt like he owed her some explanation. “I did not lead a rebellion against immortal mage-kings without getting my hands bloody. That does not mean I delighted in bloodshed then or will in the future. Besides, the Qunari offend me.”

When Nehn seemed still unsatisfied with his words, he continued, “You must understand I awoke in a world where the Veil had blocked most people’s conscious connection to the Fade. It was like walking through a world of Tranquil.”

“Oh, I see...” Nehn choked out suddenly feeling on the verge of being sick. “We aren’t even people to you.”

“Not at first,” Solas agreed quietly. “You showed me that I was wrong ... again. That does not make what must come next any easier.”

“Oh, it’s alright because you feel guilty about it? Great logic. Have you always been this twisted and I’m only seeing it now or is this new?” Nehn seethed and then inhaled sharply before turning pale. “Oh gods, is this my fault? If I had done something differently ... if the orb hadn’t broken... if I’d stayed with you...” 

“No!” Solas said harshly. “You bear no responsibility for my choices. Do not think otherwise.” From the way Nehn stared at the ground, he was certain that she didn’t believe him and that realization nearly broke him. “Please, if you accept nothing else, understand that there is nothing you did or could have done to change my mind. I walked the Din’an Shiral long before we met.”

For all her effort to keep from crying, Nehn couldn’t help herself. “I loved you. I trusted you. I respected you. And you had these plans all along? Why didn’t you let Corypheus just finish us off? You gave him your orb - right?” she questioned between angry sobs.

“I didn’t give the orb to Corypheus directly. My agents allowed the Venatori to locate it. The orb had built up magical energy while I lay unconscious for millennia. I was not powerful enough to open it. The plan was for Corypheus to unlock it, and for the resulting explosion to kill him. I did not foresee a Tevinter magister having learned the secret of effective immortality,” Solas explained with the reasoned detachment an alchemist might exhibit when an experiment went poorly.

“Wow ... you really do suck at being a mastermind,” Nehn blurted out before considering Solas had the ability to turn her to stone with just a thought. Instead he laughed at her assessment. 

“That is one conclusion...” he replied with a twinkle in his eye that briefly reminded Nehn of why she had once loved him.

“So saying that gambit had worked... the orb was unlocked. What would you have done then?” Nehn quizzed hoping to gain insight into what his future plan might entail. If she could keep him talking, maybe she could find a way to stop him or get him to see the sheer absurdity and extreme arrogance of his _solution_.

“I would have entered the Fade, using the mark you now bear. As this world burned in the raw chaos, I would have restored the world of my time... the world of elves,” Solas responded coolly.

“If you destroyed the Veil, wouldn’t that have freed some very pissed off elven gods?” Nehn wondered.

“I had plans,” Solas said cryptically

Nehn snorted. It was all so unreal that it was becoming funny. _Never mind the Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones ... Solas had plans._ Nehn wanted to continue dialoguing - hoping to get Solas to see his error, but she felt a tingle and then sharp pain in her left palm as the anchor awakened. _Is this how he ends an argument now? Just reactivate the mark? Convenient._

“The anchor ... it’s getting worse,” she announced holding her hand out to him as she dropped to her knees in pain.

Solas looked truly remorseful as he kneeled in front of her and said, “I know. And we are running out of time, vhenan.”

Nehn wanted to argue with his use of the endearment, but the pain had taken her breath away. _Is this how it will end? Will he watch me die?_ Nehn closed her eyes and thought of Cullen and her family. If these were to be her last moments, she wanted her thoughts to be of them rather than this enigma of a man in front of her and his sick machinations.

Solas continued talking but Nehn had stopped listening. Instead she saw a young Sylvia with wide brown eyes asking if Nehn would be her Mamae. Then Falon... squealing with joy and nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush to take a toy bow and arrow from her hands. Asha spinning around as she made snow fall in the middle of summer. Gideon reaching up from his crib to her - eyes bright and happy. And finally Cullen smirking at her across the war table.

“Give me your hand,” she heard Solas say through the haze of pain. Without hesitating, she complied and then startled when she felt his calloused thumb caress her cheek. His voice was overwrought with despair as he swore, “I will never forget you.”

Nehn could never recall exactly what happened next. She awakened briefly to feel burly arms around her and smell the peppery musk of Iron Bull. “You said you were right behind me,” she whispered accusingly as Bull’s single eye examined her with worry.

“You hang in there, Boss. We heard it all. We’ll get you right in no time,” he’d said. _For someone once called “Hissrad”, you are a poor liar,_ Nehn had thought before slipping unconscious again.

Nehn’s next memory was awakening in a bed filled with soft sheets, warm blankets, and comfy pillows. The weight of a thin arm across her waist and the smell of citrus told her that Asha was beside her.

“Asha?” Nehn asked hoarsely before hearing Cullen’s exhausted baritone exclaim, “Thank the Maker!” It was only when she tried to push herself up to see Cullen’s face that Nehn realized part of her left arm was gone. She cried out in terror as Asha hugged her tightly.

“It’ll be alright, Mamae. I’ll take care of you,” Asha promised. “We all will. Falon and Sylvia are here. Cullen, too.”

_Sylvia? But she was in the Frostbacks._ “How many days?” Nehn asked.

“Three since you went through the Darvaraad. I contacted Sylvia as soon as you left,” Cullen replied evenly. “I thought she’d want to be present when you got back.”

“You weren’t worried I might not make it?” Nehn pressed as she finally managed to right herself and look into Cullen’s concerned yet overjoyed eyes.

“Never,” he said sincerely before bending down to kiss her gently. “That isn’t how our story will end.”


	156. Chapter 156

In the months after confronting Solas, Nehn carefully dismantled the Inquisition. This was, of course, after she gave a sharply worded and brilliantly delivered statement to the Exalted Council for why she was _choosing_ to disband her organization. Varric recalled the caustic diatribe as, “the most spectacularly eloquent and bitingly polite offer to kiss someone’s elven ass,” that he had ever heard and had actually broken several quills trying to scribble down notes for his next book as Nehn ranted at the Fereldan and Orleasian delegates.

While Ferelden and Orlais might have thought it was their concerns about the Inquisition’s power that prompted Nehn to disband, she had other reasons. For one, spies for Solas and the Qunari had infiltrated all levels of the organization. The corruption was too widespread to be rooted out, and Nehn needed people she could trust if she was to stand a chance at stopping Solas or changing his mind. The other reason was more personal. She was tired of being seen as a savior or a scapegoat depending on which way the wind was blowing. She was just a woman - one that wanted more time with her family and a chance to live without her every action being scrutinized.

Adapting to losing part of her arm presented Nehn with a challenge as she led the wind-down of Inquisition activities. While she was relieved to be free of the onus and constant pain of the mark, she still had days where she had to force herself to get out of bed. It was the smallest things - having trouble buttoning a shirt or picking up Gideon - that made the loss feel most profound. Publicly making light of her predicament helped her cope. Much to Cassandra’s chagrin, Nehn enjoyed making bad puns about “needing a hand” and insisted that Varric refer to her as “Stumpy” rather than “Sassy.” Her friends and children were amazed at her adaptability and resilience in light of such a grievous injury. 

Only Cullen knew that she struggled with feeling unattractive and helpless. He was her rock - even when she angrily threw boots she couldn’t tie off the balcony or initially refused to undress in his presence. He held her when she cried and helped her when she asked. When she shared how vulnerable she felt, he stopped wearing armor in a show of solidarity. He never rushed her recovery or belittled her struggle. He was just there - safe and solid - with a warm smile or a gentle hug as she found her new normal. He was patient and caring when their initial attempts at intimacy ended with her sobbing and hiding under blankets, and somehow moved her past the shame and embarrassment she felt over her scarred body to where she once again felt beautiful and alive in his arms. 

Having spent most of her life casting without using a staff, Nehn’s magic had suffered little from the amputation although she could no longer wield a spectral sword and a staff simultaneously. In fact, Nehn stopped using staves altogether in favor of intricately rune carved wands. The wands were lightweight, discrete, and every bit as powerful. After getting used to her new weapons, Nehn wondered why she had ever carried a staff. She could keep multiple wands - each designed to channel different energies- on her belt or in the folds of her dresses which made it easier for her to exploit a target’s elemental weaknesses. Not to mention that it was incredibly relaxing to twirl her wand in her fingers as she puzzled at a problem.

It was with all those changes behind them, and an uncertain future in front of them that Nehn and Cullen stood alone in the rotunda at Skyhold. Everyone else had already departed. Their soldiers, spies, and servants had found new employment. Their inner circle had returned to their own lives and exploits. Their children were waiting in the valley below at Sionn and Sylvia’s house so Nehn could privately say goodbye to her life as Inquisitor.

Cullen arched an eyebrow at Nehn and hesitantly asked, “Are you sure about this?” 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. This represents history as he saw it. His entire problem comes from living in the past. When he comes back here - and I know he will - I want him to see a blank canvas... a future.” Nehn replied as she dipped a brush in paint and began to cover Solas’ mural with broad strokes. Cullen smirked as he joined in enthusiastically erasing Solas‘ fresco. A few hours and several gallons of paint later, Nehn and Cullen sat exhausted and elated in the floor of the rotunda examining their handiwork. “It needs something... an instruction,” Nehn announced as she stood and mixed some black paint. In elegant script she left her message and prayer to Fen’Harel: _Banal nadas. Vir athim la vir sulahn’nehn._ “Nothing is inevitable. The path of humility leads to one of joy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all folks. Nearly 300,000 words and many months. Thanks for cheering me on and sharing this journey.


End file.
